A Fate Unknown
by Truth and Chaos
Summary: Over and over in my head I kept coming up with reasons why I couldn't possibly be in a video game. First, things like that didn't happen in the real world. Second it was a video game. Not real. As in not part of existing reality. Third, ah hell...
1. One

Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Age: Origins or any character from the Dragon Age universe.

Author's Note: Ahhh...well I didn't plan on writing this, but it's about oh, maybe 60 pages and only on chapter 5.

Remember, you don't have to review but I'm not going to know if you like it or not unless you tell me. ;)

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Edit 1/3/14 (because I'm up early and snowed in, joy - that was sarcasm btw): A reviewer brought something to my attention (thank you to said reviewer - that was _not_ sarcasm, I was really happy someone reviewed after the crappy night I had).

**Elyria is not a self insert.** To be clear, Elyria was originally an auburn haired sassy, angry twin with Leukemia in a _House_ story about seven years ago. It was actually pretty long then Kutner died and sigh, I was forced to rewrite a lot of the story. Which, of course, depressed me and made me not want to finish. I inserted Elyria into another original story, changed her hair color, eye color, level of sass and snark and thus this variation was born.

Believe me, if I was going to self insert I'd use my name, my body type and personality.

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Chapter 1:

Honestly I have no conception of how I possibly could have ended up here. Thedas, to me as well as a great number of other people where I'm from, is a fictional world. The setting for two video games, some comics and a couple of books I think. Another video game was in the works from what I understood, but that is neither here nor there at the moment. Where I'm from there are stories, novels, and movies about people ending up in other worlds. Places where they're not supposed to be. They fuck up the story line, some big bad comes to the forefront and the protagonist gets a good dose of humility to temper their all knowing hubris. It happens all of the time in fiction.

Yes I watch, well watched as it is a lot of Doctor Who and Supernatural.

I used to watch Buffy and Angel too.

Sleepy Hollow.

Torchwood.

The list goes on…

Being here, getting here, arriving here, it didn't happen like it does in the stories. I wasn't walking, jogging, running, alone on a moonless night only to be accosted by a mugger or worse. I didn't fall asleep watching television. I didn't make a wish on a questionable, ancient looking oil lamp. There were no magical, twinkling fairies handing out wishes. No mischievous djinn twisting hopes and desires into horrifying realities. No witchcraft gone wrong or invocation gone sideways. I didn't fall down a proverbial rabbit hole. I didn't fall asleep listening to a story.

I didn't die.

I sat in the quad at school playing with an app on my phone, killing time between classes. The one pm economics lecture with my least favorite professor had been unceremoniously cancelled. No explanation. Not that I wanted to attend anyway. The only reason I even enrolled in the class was because my parents wanted to have some control over my course load. My mother feared me becoming a tomboy (and thus – with her 1950's values of womanhood – never getting married) and my father worried that my major wouldn't get me anywhere in life. Or serve to get me a better job than a checkout clerk at Macy's.

My next class at two thirty would have been History of Rock and Roll. We were supposed to watch the new **Rock of Ages** over the weekend as homework and come up with a dozen comments or questions about the movie. Afterward I would have gone to my favorite class of the day, Fencing 302, an upper level that only a handful of people got into due to requirements and prerequisites. The last class I would have attended was the class that made my father flip-out and demand I start taking my future seriously.

An upper level art class with professor Moonbeam Starfire. Yes, that is her real name. No, really. Her parents were commune hippies that opened a bed and breakfast later in life. She, according to her confessions, has a brother named Ash Currant and a younger sister named Willow Fawn. I kind of envied her.

I sat out on the lawn of the Dawkins building, listening distantly to the sound of the ducks in the pond while I killed zombies on my Android. I remember feet walking past my line of vision and the sounds of other people laughing or talking. Snippets of conversations out of context, forgotten a heartbeat after they passed. I saw people on phones, or talking on Bluetooth head sets. I remember distinctly seeing the red brick of the Mitchell building across the street from me for quite some time.

The last thing I recalled before realizing that I wasn't in Kansas anymore, I waved to my history professor as he went into the building. Doctor Dave with his studded diamond earring in one ear, ever present 5 o'clock shadow and rich Scottish brogue said he would see me in class in a bit. I remember standing up if only to shuck the weight of the plain beige Old Navy spring jacket I added to my dark blue Air Force hoodie before leaving for class this morning. April showers might bring May flowers, but they also brought temperamental rain storms and winds that whipped like Moffat's version of Irene Adler.

I left on my scarf too, beige, blue and green cashmere number I adored.

The sun had long since come out to shine and heat the air. I felt warm and sleepy with all the layers on, but unlike the people that lived this far north I knew better than to take them all off in favor of my t-shirt and jeans. A good arctic wind would break my immune system like an uncooked egg shell. Once the jacket was folded up and put away, I took off my headphones too. The steady drum beat of _Sour Cherry_ shut off mid chorus.

Now I'm not like a lot of people I know that crank up the volume until it rivals the sound of a jet engine. I keep it low enough so that I can drown out the mundane but still pick my name up if said at a slightly higher than average volume. I think, in total, I may have been looking down for all of two to three minutes. Maybe.

When I looked up again, note book and Kindle in hand (because downloading my text book as I passed the library every day made was so much cheaper than actually _buying_ it) I realized that Kansas was far away. Well, technically New York State, but it may well have been Kansas for all I knew. Instead of the sparsely spaced trees of the quad – a green field area formed by the Hudson, Dawkins and Heaver buildings that was home to a small pond at the center – I found myself standing in a marsh. Literally.

Trees, foliage and marshland as far as the eye could see.

The low sitting stone wall that surrounded the Hawkins building, the one I'd been waiting on not five minutes ago, no longer sat behind me. Nothing but a small clearing, no more than twenty paces in either direction stood at my back. The synapses in my brain misfired several times before I realized there was something rotten in the state of Denmark. Bewilderment gave way to uncertainty, uncertainty to denial, denial to indignation, indignation to dread, and finally dread to the sobering realization that my cozy little college town was not anywhere near by.

I think I may have skipped negotiation as a step, but basically I went through the stages of grief in a handful of seconds. The emotions of course would repeat, continuously, for quite a bit more time afterwards. Feeling like a fish out of water I grabbed in my bag for my phone. No signal. Despite the disheartening slash through the tiny white cell tower in the corner of the screen I tried GPS. When that failed I tried 911, because that usually goes through no matter what kind of cell tower is in the vicinity.

Nada. Nothing. Not even the irritating sound of an electronic call cannot connect message. What the fucking hell?

Which left one of two options, either I was somewhere without cell reception or I was somewhere there could not be any cell reception. Similar as the two seemed to be, they weren't in the slightest. The first implied that the area near and around where I ended up lacked reception but eventually I could walk my way into an area with reception. The latter stated simply that I would be, could be, in a place that didn't have any form of cell tower. An idea which brought on a minor panic attack as I stood there staring at the completely useless phone in my hand.

I used to watch a lot of Outer Limits, Stargate, Haven too. Although I knew without a doubt that I hadn't accidentally invoked the wrath of any ancient alien gods or locked in any star signs with my phone. No television set to mess with. No strange apps for my Kindle.

Hands shaking, I turned the phone off and put it away. If I couldn't GPS my way out of these woods then sure as hell no one could find me here even if they knew to look. Better to save the battery. I charged it that morning thankfully. My mild OCD refused to let me ignore charging anything for more than a twenty-four hour period, especially my phone. Realizing I needed to save the battery life on anything and everything I had with me, I set to shutting everything down. My Kindle, and my iPod.

I checked the pocket in my bag that I kept generic WalMart brand granola bars in, finding happily I did indeed stock it yesterday when I reminded myself to. The twenty ounce bottle of Poland Spring I stuck in my bag this morning sloshed a little as things moved around. My wallet, intact with my debit card, driver's license, student ID and sixty four dollars left over from my shopping at the grocery store yesterday morning. A Strawberry Lemonade lollipop, half a bag of sour gummies, a balsa wood plane they were handing out by my dorm this morning to advertise some new aviation model store opening in town, art supplies and my sketch book, binder, my keys, makeup clutch, hand cream, and my lucky stuffed owl; Herbert.

Jesus I had a lot of crap, no wonder my bag weighed so effing much.

I used this jumbo blue-green striped messenger bag I picked up at the Christmas fair back home over the winter break. The woman at the kiosk managed to talk me into a lot, like a pair of Claddagh rings for my boyfriend and I. Unfortunately said boyfriend chose the day after our return to school to end our relationship. I kept the rings on a necklace under my clothes on the same chain I kept the oval locket with my grandparent's wedding photo, and the wooden turtle charm my best friend used to wear around his wrist.

Thinking about my best friend made my throat tight. If he were here he'd know what to do.

The cold weather felt heavier here than it did back in New York. The damp seemed to settle into my sweatshirt quickly, sending a slick cool shiver down my back. I pulled out my jacket again, donning it. Something silver and worn caught the light before I could drop the flap back into place over my bag. I reached in for it and almost sighed in relief. I forgot about Cody's utility knife. His mom gave it to me after the funeral. She said she couldn't have his things in the house, his stepfather wouldn't have it. She gave me the totem the same day.

Throat constricted and sore I fought back tears.

Crying wouldn't do me any good, and it would waste valuable energy. It would also lead me to freaking out which I could absolutely **not** afford to do. I could freak out once I found somewhere safe for the night. Oh, I had hours and hours until evening and sunset, I could tell by the height of the sun overhead. At least time hadn't gone funny on me. It was still a little before, maybe a little after, two in the afternoon.

Taking several deep, slow breaths I looked for moss on the trees. All of my hiking trips in the Catskills alongside Cody left me with a handful of useful knowledge. Moss grew on the north side of a tree because it could only survive outside of direct sunlight. Using the utility knife to remove the bark of trees as I passed, I went north and somewhat east. Right handed people tended to walk more heavily toward their right, where left handed people walked heavily to their left. So north, and a little east. I hoped by ripping a patch of bark off trees as I passed it would keep me from walking in a completely useless circle.

The sun seemed to slide a little lower while I walked. Just as I began to fear not being able to find shelter for the night my eyes fell on something in the distance. Water, a flowing stream. Unlike the waterways back home, there weren't soap bubbles, discarded candy wrappers or decrepit looking water bottles lining the banks. No chemical run off at all from what I could tell. Still, I dipped one finger into the icy water then dripped a few drops on my tongue.

Clean. If it had been bitter I would have spit it out and moved on. Instead I filled up the space in my water bottle before following the flow of water in the opposite direction.

The stream flowed south, away from me. I figured that if I managed to get far enough north I might eventually run into people. Unless, of course, there were no people to be found. I shuddered at the idea and kept going. My stomach started to rumble in the first alert that I was missing dinner with my roommate and friends in the dining hall. I wondered if maybe Emma would try my cell when I didn't show. Or if she'd chalk it up to me pulling another all nighter in the library again.

A few handfuls of water from the stream quieted my stomach but I'd need food sooner or later. The package of granola bars I dumped in my bag yesterday only held six. I'd need to either forage or dredge up the vague-ish memory of how to make a trap for fish. I didn't recognize the vegetation and I'm not much for building fires. Not too bad at fishing with a fishing pole, my granddad taught me how.

The first ruin came into sight by the time the sky began to turn pinkish in color. I ran all the way to the leaning archway, solid white marble, smooth and just a little warm under my hand. If I had thought before that I might still be somewhere in America, the idea went out the window with the certainty of being on Earth as well. As I looked up at the vine covered broken down masses of white-grey stone jutting out of the ground I came to a horrifying realization.

"Toto," I murmured looking around and around until my brain and eyes began to hurt from vertigo, "we are _so_ not in Kansas anymore."

I sat down by the ruins and downed a few pieces of the gummi sours. If I succumbed to shock there wouldn't be anyone to help me. Water, a handful of colorful red, blue and orange later, my hands stopped shaking. I licked the sugar from one hand then washed it in the waterway. It had begun to widen from a flowing stream to a babbling brook. Hopefully it would lead me toward a town or village of some kind. Where they spoke English. Or a semblance of English.

My head still spun a little from occasionally looking up to keep my way. I've always been prone to vertigo. Which is why I cannot play first person shooters for very long. I'm more of an RPG person. Skyrim addict or so says Emma's boyfriend. Though I recently had been spending a lot of time playing through Dragon Age Origins and Dragon Age Two again. If only to give myself a few more options by the time DA3 came out.

And that, as they say, was when it hit me.

After the requisite panic attack, the umpteenth roll through the stages of grief – I must be one odd duck for not hitting the negotiating stage, seriously – I threw up. It was good that I'd managed to find a decent enough water source because I just couldn't fight off a good old selfish 'why me' cry. The only thing I didn't do was scream my effing lungs out. Mostly because I was terrified I'd attract darkspawn.

Over and over in my head I kept coming up with reasons why I couldn't possibly be in a video game. First, shit like that didn't happen in the real world. Second it was a god damn _video game_. Not real. As in not part of existing reality. Third, fucking hell.

I scrubbed my face with the water from the brook. I went against my nature and sent up a silent prayer to whoever might be listening, be it God, Jesus, The Maker or Andraste to please, please let me get out of this intact. I'm not much of a religious person, never have been, but I would take what I could get. Especially now.

I forced my legs to get me up and move. I breathed out and then in and out again to steady myself. If I were in Dragon Age then I probably started out in Origins. I looked up at the ruin as I passed it, my sneakers tracking against dewy grass. In the Kocari Wilds.

Meaning there could be hundreds of darkspawn a careless footstep away. I had to follow the river and hope it brought me north to Lothering. Or (Holy Christ I hope to hell not) Ostagar. An involuntary shudder went down my spine. If I did happen to be in Thedas, in Ferelden, I had no time frame for when I arrived. In the game I started back home I already recruited the Dwarves and put that asshole Beheln on the throne. I only did it for the achievement. Last play though I picked Harrowmont. Then again I'd been an Aeducan. I found getting Paragon status at the same time as sticking it to a scheming sociopath a bit of a kick.

Jesus.

Okay, I had to think. I had to figure this out.

I had two other open games that hadn't left Ostagar yet. The first Aedan Cousland rogue, an archer who only just picked up the quests before I quit. The other, also a rogue, female though Lyna, one of the Daelish dual wielding who went through the joining but hadn't spoken with Loghain, King Calin or Duncan yet at the war council.

Assuming night fall meant the battle would begin I needed to clear out soon. Before the shit hit the proverbial fan. No, more than that, I needed to find a high spot and…

Shortening the strap to the point my messenger bag didn't bounce off my hip anymore I grabbed hold of a sturdy looking branch above my head. I'll admit to not having climbed a tree since, oh say, junior high. But, just like riding a bike, you never forget how. Hand over hand, thank you fencing for upper body strength, my feet planted in the right places I managed to haul myself up a fairly tall Willow tree.

Trees, wetlands, pools of water and small hills toward the west. East of course held the brook that looked as if it ended in a pond about half a mile away. Beyond that stood the granite grayish-white stone of Ostagar. I knew it by the towering arches that seemed to breech the sky. No sounds of battle though. No sounds of troops moving or the raucous howling bay of a darkspawn horn into the night.

My heartbeat kicked up in my chest. I could get there, walk there in about a half hour if I hauled ass. My whole body gave a sigh of relief at finding some semblance of civilization. I almost forgot a handful of simple problems as I sat there straddling a heavy tree branch. Almost.

How would I explain myself to anyone who asked? Looking down at my clothing reminded me that I did not look like I belonged. Dark blue jeans, brand new from Old Navy paired with grey, pink and white sneakers. An Air Force hoodie, a spring jacket and under those a blue long sleeve Henley, a graphite grey t-shirt and a plain black ribbed tank. And my undies of course.

I'm from southern New York, where it is a little bit warmer year round okay?

Skin prickling with gooseflesh I eased my way down the tree until my feet touched grass.

"Maker's breath!" Someone cried from behind me.

I let loose a little scream of fright, jumping and turning and then flailing like a mad woman. Four men, all of them a lot taller than me. One balding guy with a hand on his sword – holy effing shit an actual broad sword – another guy with a skeever's face, dressed all in leather and…

The synapses in my brain misfired again.

People talk about seeing their creations brought to life from book to movie, but holy baby Jesus it is an entirely different story when you see your video game avatar in reality. It's an utterly singular experience.

When I created Aedan I spent a hell of a lot of time working on his face because the presets just out and out sucked monkey balls. Baboon balls at that. His angular cheek bones in real life were just as drool worth as I imagined and the hair I downloaded from the Nexus really did make him look a little wild and untamed. Which had been the plan. And those eyes, I actually liked the dark blue presets that came with the game, but Christ in heaven _those eyes_. I could drown happily in those twin pools of cool blue.

I feared salivating.

I thought about my make up and thanked whatever power in charge for my use of waterproof mascara this morning.

"One of the chasind," a distinctly familiar voice said.

I admit to being one of those girls whose skirts lift at the idea of romancing Alistair. I did it twice when I first got DA:O, one a female Cousland who of course became queen to his king. The other an Amell mage who sacrificed herself to kill the Arch Demon. I didn't realize the conversation Leliana had with my avatars about Alistair's athletic body type actually would suit him if he were real. Broad shoulders, warm skin, eyes that threatened to melt my panties off.

Though most of that went out the window when I realized he said I was one of the wilder folk. Bristling, "I am _not_ chasind." The four sets of eyes on me made me think better of my anger once the words were out of my mouth. Their primarily six foot plus heights put them at a distinct advantage over my own five foot four. Holding tightly to the strap of my messenger bag, I stood my ground and tried at least to stare them down.

There were a lot of things I could have said. Should probably have said. What I did say though was:

"God damn it."

Language from a woman didn't seem to faze anyone except Alistair. Who had unceremoniously pulled Aedan off to the side and stood vehemently debating with him about little old me. What to do with me, or who I could be as it were. Ser Jory stood nearby with one hand on his broad sword, his eyes drifting over the landscape only to settle on me after each scan. Daveth on the other hand leaned nonchalantly against one tree and watched me with a growing, lecherous, leer.

A rogue, though not in the handsome devilish kind of way he reminded me quite a bit of a skeever. Which is to say an oversized, ornery _rat_.

I'm not the type of person who doesn't mind being stared at, so when his eyes had lingered on me upwards of three solid minutes I started to get annoyed with him. I could make the allowance that my clothes were strange and the plastic claw holding my hair back had sparkles melted into it. I've been told a number of times that I'm very pretty, with mint-green eyes and wavy pale blonde hair that Emma thinks looks like sunlight and moon light interwoven. My skin, from all the outdoor activities I've participated in over the years has this permanent tan, not dark but warm.

English/Sweedish/Native American heritage my grandfather said.

But I was tired of being watched.

"Is there something you wanted," I asked Daveth with a scowl, "or are you just going to keep looking at me like you're trying to get my clothes off with your eyes?" I don't like Daveth, though I do pity him. My dislike for his short lived character began when my very first NPC came across him accosting a female soldier with the old 'we could die tomorrow' line.

He seemed to take my ire in stride, his mouth moving upwards at one corner for a scoundrel's smirk. "Now how do you know what I am thinking or not? I could be wondering where you got them strange clothes you have on."

I could have gone through the small rant of how they weren't strange clothes where I'm from. In a crowd in my world I would have just been another person dressed like everyone else. Instead I called him out on his obvious lechery, "Then why do you keep staring at my chest?"

He shrugged, completely at home with his tactlessness.

I groaned audibly and shifted away. I could practically feel him staring at my ass. Waiting while Alistair and Aedan (try saying that three times fast) visibly argued over my presence. I couldn't be sure what they were trying to figure out whether to take me with them or take me back to Ostagar or leave me to the Wilds. They walked far enough away to void any eavesdropping I might have done. When they found me and Alistair asked me what I was doing out here if I wasn't one of the chasind, I hadn't been very forthcoming. I did try to stick to the truth though.

I gave them my name, explained I was lost and I wasn't quite sure where I was or how I got there. I'd been walking for at least an hour, maybe two. The things that wouldn't have Alistair's Templar sensibilities tingling with 'apostate' notions. Though…I really hadn't tried magic as of yet. Having watched a lot of Once Upon A Time, the idea of wielding primal spells with my fingertips left me all kinds of curious.

Mages here used a staff to conduct magical power, but they didn't need it for basic spells. I thought about forming a ball of magic with my left hand. It didn't work. I sighed. No magic for me then. Oh well.

"She could die out there!" Aedan's voice went up in an angry shout. He made a motion, one that said he was done arguing and walked away from a troubled looking Warden. I felt a little bad for Alistair. I chose Aedan's personality to be wise and his responses as cynical/comical.

Once he came within a few feet of me he gave me a short, quick bow, "My lady, I'm afraid we're too far into our tasks to turn back. If you wouldn't mind accompanying us the rest of the way, I promise we will help you once we are finished."

Knowing he was born into Teryn's family didn't stop me from being almost amazed that he called me 'my lady' and bowed to me. I felt my skin turning beet red, "You don't have to. I mean, thank you, I mean…" I flushed and hated myself for stuttering. God damn it. I opened my mouth to untie my tongue when the first clicks sounded.

Not too loud, but loud enough to echo in my ears.

I felt my eyes go wide of their own volition as thin threads of fear crept up my spine.

Genlock rogues.

And I didn't have any weapons.

Aedan took me by the arm, pushing me back toward the tree, "Climb." I didn't need to be told twice. I grabbed hold of the branch over my head just as the first one appeared. Battle cries went up and the clash, clash, bang of swords hitting armor and shields resounded. I watched blood so deep red it almost looked black spill from the severed limb of a genlock. My stomach roiled at the sight.

Fake blood on the movie screens, no problem. Darkspawn gore, yeah, problem.

Alistair's blade went through the neck of another one, one good jerk and half of the genlock's neck split open, blood spilling down its tarnished armor. Daveth and Ser Jory ended the existence of the last one, two blades to the back, broadsword through the stomach. In all, maybe they'd been fighting a handful of minutes.

I, on the other hand, had wrapped my legs and arms around the tree branch I'd settled on about ten feet up. When in doubt, blend into the scenery. I wasn't sure if the genlocks would have cared about me or not. Better safe than sorry considering my only weapon was Cody's utility knife. I waited until the four men were cleaning their blades of darkspawn blood before coming down.

Feeling like one of those young, frail things I read about in bad harlequin romance novels, I dropped out of the tree. I needed a weapon. Not just to assuage my mildly wounded pride, but to possibly keep me alive.

"Can you use a bow, my lady?" Alistair asked as he began pulling open his pack.

"Not very well," I admitted. I didn't fail archery necessarily. I dropped out of archery class before I could get a chance to flunk out last semester. Took the withdraw on my permanent record with a held up chin as it were. "I'm better with a blade." Though fencing, much like sex, didn't end up with anyone getting injured if you were doing it the right way. Unless, of course, that was your kink.

The Templar/Warden looked at me for a moment, seeming to study me.

To put the argument to rest, his eyes are a very dark green with strikes of topaz through the iris. Up close, his eyes are very, very pretty. Just saying.

He made a decision and pulled a weapon out of the tan and brown satchel. A weapon that probably should not have fit in his pack from the size of it. I always wondered if the backpacks in my Dragon Age game were enchanted. They had to be to store that much stuff and not have the wearer fall over from the weight of everything they might have been carrying. I know I used to carry maxed out stacks of Greater Lyrium potions and Major Health Poultices.

I didn't know what sort of sword it was, though I did know it was not a darkspawn blade. Those, as I'd recently seen, were ugly and permanently stained rust brown with blood and other unidentifiable fluids. Mine was an iron, maybe steel, long sword. Heavier than the saber I used while fencing. I wouldn't need two hands for it, but it would wear me out if I didn't use two hands. Inclining my head to him I said, "Thank you."

His ears turned a little pink at the tips, "We should, ah, go."

The men put me in the middle with, I suppose, noble notions of defending me and/or keeping me alive until they could go back to Ostagar. I didn't know what I would do if they took me back there. Flemeth's winged incarnation only had two claws, one for Aedan and one for Alistair. My stomach sank with the knowledge that unless I figured out something to do, somewhere to go, to run, I would undoubtedly die in this world.

Thankfully Ser Jory walked directly behind me. I don't think Daveth's face might have survived if I turned around to catch him watching my ass again.

The wilds looked much different than it did on screen. My graphics card is high end (thank you student loan refund checks) and my computer's processor was a 4g dual core so I play on ultra-high quality. Three dimensional reality still kicked it into oblivion. As much as I'd gone camping and hiking throughout my life, I still had never seen nature as wild as it was here. I felt like a tourist seeing Manhattan for the first time. The people I used to laugh at and dodge around while my friends and I shopped. The ones that went still on the pavement and stared up at the towering skyscrapers over head, metal and glass gleaming in the sunlight.

Only one thing stood out to me while we moved something that chilled me to the bone. There were no birds chirping. No frogs croaking from their lily pads in the marshy water. No squirrels chattering at each other over food. The sounds of the woods had gone much to quiet in response to the darkspawn invasion.

I felt like every footstep we made echoed even if I knew the grass muffled most of our movements.

So enraptured was I that almost missed the first signs of an imminent battle. These men had never come here before, but I had taken at least three of them through this before. I knew where we were. Sticking out of the ground in front of some grey-white marble ruins were stripped wooden logs covered in darkspawn 'art' or whatever it was actually called. The bottom dropped out of my stomach at the same time my adrenaline went into overdrive.

As if on cue, Alistair slowed in front of us his hands moving for his sword and shield, "Darkspawn."

Ser Jory took me by the shoulder, pulled me away and pushed me to the side. Very noble of him.

"Daveth," Aedan called back as he and Alistair moved forward into oncoming darkspawn, "protect the lady Elyria."

Who says chivalry is dead?

I could practically feel the dull pluck, pluck, pluck of Daveth firing off arrow after arrow in my bones. The other men took down the lower level hurlock and went after the emissary. The rule, at least in the video game world, is kill the casters first worry about melee later. Good to know it's a factor in real life – did I just refer to this world as real? Fuck my life… – as well.

That didn't stop the archer behind the barricade though. It let out that cackling, tick, tick of a sound as it fired toward Daveth and me. I sidestepped bringing up the blade in time to deflect. The arrow buried itself in the ground a foot and half behind me. I could feel my adrenaline racing and the cold sweat of fear down my back. All jokes aside, I wasn't ready to die.

And that is when I blacked out.

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I am playing through a couple of other games on DA:O so I can have alternates for DA:2 and DA:3 when it comes out.

PM me if there are any issues please, I wrote this at work and edited it at home.


	2. Two

Author's Note: Feel free to PM me if you catch anything that shouldn't be in here. I was writing at work again.

Edit 1/3/14 (because I'm up early and snowed in, joy - that was sarcasm btw): A reviewer brought something to my attention (thank you to said reviewer).

**Elyria is not a self insert.** To be clear, Elyria was originally an auburn haired sassy, angry twin with Leukemia in a _House_ story about seven years ago. It was actually pretty long then Kutner died and sigh, I was forced to rewrite a lot of the story. Which, of course, depressed me and made me not want to finish. I inserted Elyria into another original story, changed her hair color, eye color, level of sass and snark and thus this variation was born.

Believe me, if I was going to self insert I'd use my name, my body type and personality.

* * *

Chapter 2:

Emma crouching over me was the first thing I could really see. I blinked against the sunlight filtering through the glass windows of the Hawkins building. Lifting a hand to shield my eyes I cast around blearily. The face of my classmates from History of Rock and Roll watched me with varying degrees of concern, annoyance, curiosity and fascination. Emma's hand pressed against my forehead, "Hey," her voice softly accented Brooklyn tones said, "how do you feel?"

Honestly? Like I'd gone bat-shit crazy. I closed my eyes and breathed in. Filtered air, the smell of dust burning a little from the heaters and the mix of cologne, perfume, deodorant and the like had never smelled better to me. Emma's own peaches and sunflowers body spray made me want to reach out and hug her. I grabbed her hand and, with my eyes still closed said, "Tell me I passed out."

The concern in her voice frightened me a little, "No, you had a seizure." She forced my right eye open, "El, you never said you were an epileptic."

Slapping her hand away in anger, "I'm **not**." We've been roommates for three and a half years of college, there was no way I would have been able to hide epilepsy from her for so long. I pushed up into a sitting position, feeling the rush of blood at the same time it roared in my ears. I put a hand out and Emma grabbed hold. "Holy shit," I muttered grabbing my left side temple and closing my eyes.

Doctor Dave spoke into his cell phone only a couple of feet away, "Yes, she's awake. I'll send her down. Thank you." He put the iPhone back in his pocket, "Miss O'Riley you may take Miss Duke down to the health center if she can make the walk."

I scowled at him, then Emma. My legs wobbled under me as I tried to stand. "Nucking futs," the mixed up cursing slipped from between my lips. Woozy did not even cover the way I felt. The only description I managed to cover with my addled brain was simply this:

It felt like a migraine combined with an overstuffed pressure cooker while tripping on acid. The world moved around me every time I blinked. Emma helped me into a seat. She asked Doctor Dave to call an ambulance. Who said premed students didn't know anything? She did. Enough to know something was wrong with me.

Putting my head between my legs did absolutely nothing for it. Vaguely I heard Doctor Dave talking to someone, either 911 or the health center. Emma stroked my hair and back, telling me to breathe deeply. Some of the other people in my class speculated as to what happened. A couple thought I was drunk. Someone else thought I was diabetic and hadn't taken my insulin. One person, just one, thought I was having a heart attack.

Thinking about how ridiculous that was made me want to laugh. A heart attack at twenty? Certainly I was a little over weight, but not unhealthily so. I'd put on the freshman ten plus another five during sophomore year. That did not mean I was having a fucking heart attack.

Nausea hit me again, like a bag of bricks dropping right on my stomach and brain at the same time. The pain practically dragged me out of my seat and back onto the floor. Scrunching up into a little ball of agony, and nausea I lay there with Emma stroking my hair. The windows to the classroom were opened letting in frosty November air. The breeze mixed with the warm air that smelled faintly of burnt dust from the radiators. The slightest movements sounded like stomping elephants to my ears. The smell of dust and cold November from outside hit my nose and then…well then my brain went woosh again.

Face planting into the grass isn't any more graceful than it looks, but at least the grass was soft and the ground only a little harder. Thankfully my brain case felt better. I did a push up off the ground and found the long sword Alistair had given me only a foot away from my right hand. In front of me I saw a pair of feet, well, two pairs of feet. Both in plain black flat shoes, one set of legs encased in yellow-green stockings the other in black leggings. Fortunately there were no other people around.

Getting up onto my knees made me think better of that.

Flemeth and Morrigan stood watching me, the younger witch with her arms crossed over her spectacularly buoyant breasts for someone not wearing a push up bra. Morrigan wore a look that lacked an enthusiasm, regarding me with mild overtones of irritation. Flemeth on the other hand watched me with hooded eyes and an unreadable expression.

"Welcome traveler," Flemeth said sounding very much like the crazy little old lady she appeared to be. I thought about the Dragon Age 2 costume she wore, the big dragon horns she would grow in the transition between games. "Though it seems you're a bit stuck in the between."

"Ya think," I growled and pushed up from the grass and dirt. "What the hell is going on? Why am I flip-flopping back and forth? What am I doing here? This world isn't real! It's not-"

Flemeth held up one wrinkled hand that reminded me very much of my grandmother's with purple and blue veins sticking out of paper thin skin. So very different from the well intact, seeming ageless Flemeth of DA2. "What is real and what is not, are not subjects up for debate child, only what is happing in the present. You have," her gaze went over my form and I suddenly felt the need to brush off the dirt and grass on my clothes to look more presentable, "somehow managed to fall through the cracks in the barrier between our worlds."

I picked off pieces of grass from my hoodie, "Or I'm having extremely vivid hallucinations brought on by the lack of oxygenated blood flowing to my cerebrum." Considering I'd had a seizure not brought on by epilepsy, and I couldn't remember actually going to class, it was entirely possible I was dying. Instead of my life flashing before my eyes my brain may have begun to use this fantasy world as a coping mechanism so that I could escape the pain. Maybe it wasn't a heart attack. Maybe I'd had a stroke.

"A valid argument," Flemeth conceded graciously.

Which made me suspicious.

Somewhere, elsewhere in the wilds the bay of a darkspawn horn went up. I looked up at the sky, seeing the blood-orange of sunset. In my chest my heart skipped a beat. The massacre at Ostagar would happen in a handful of hours, and there was nothing, absolutely not a single god damn thing I could do to save all those people. If you'd like the definition of feeling absolutely helpless, that was it.

"There is nothing you can do," Flemeth told me with solemn finality. She turned her head, "Morrigan, supper for three. I must speak with the Traveler."

Every time she said 'traveler' like that I had flashes of the Stay Puffed Mashmellow Man moving past buildings in Manhattan. Except Gozer the Gozerian hadn't invoked me from someone's head. Hey, you are never too old to watch (and appreciate) the Ghostbusters, got it?

"Yes mother," Morrigan said almost begrudgingly. I wondered, as she cast me one last curious glance if she knew half as much about me as I did about her. Though I supposed Flemeth knew a great deal more than either of us girls combined.

Once the door was closed I leaned down for my long sword. "So, Flemeth," I said, "care to tell me how you're the Face of Boe in this, or am I gonna have to hazard a guess?"

"You would not understand even if I were to explain it to you as simply as I can." The elderly witch assured me, "though I will try if you care to use our time together like that."

"And how else would we spend it?"

She stepped toward me and for half a second I wanted to give ground. I didn't though. Standing before me, she motioned to the blade in my hand, "In your world you are a child of privilege, are you not?"

Reluctantly, I nodded. My parents own their Manhattan brownstone. We have money. I hated admitting that to anyone. I never wanted to trade on my parents' names or their money. Hell, I was paying for most of college with scholarships. I purposely chose a SUNY school instead of going to Brown like my father wanted. I'm a bit of a black sheep in my family, while my sister and brother are the literal examples of golden children.

"What of it," I asked.

Flemeth's dark eyes narrowed on me, "You have never had to kill."

Night fell, Morrigan cooked dinner and I ate with her while Flemeth went off to rescue the wardens. The food, I believe it was chicken – at least I hoped it was chicken – with lemon grass and spinach, sat sourly in my stomach while we waited. There were no sounds of battle or ominous howls of darkspawn. No shouts of men in the night or screams shattering the quiet peace. Still I felt uneasy sitting there nibbling on food while hundreds of men and women were dying. Or worse. Time stretched out from minutes into hours.

Morrigan asked a few questions about where I came from, what my world was like. It interested her that I was not a Thedas native. Her curiosity seemed to focus in more on the way I had been pulled back and forth between worlds. When I appeared here, before her and her mother, there had been a soft crack in the air like muffled lightening. At least that is what she told me. Then I fell through the air onto the ground.

Flemeth returned just as I finished explaining waking up in the classroom at school.

Both Aedan and Alistair were unconscious, though Aedan more than likely from blood loss. Two arrows punctured his chest, one in his left shoulder and one poking through the flesh of his abdomen. Alistair on the other hand had on the Thane helmet, though one of the horns had broken off and part of it looked dented. A thin trail of blood trickled down his cheek from somewhere under the dent.

Fearing cranial pressure or worse damage to his skull itself, I pulled the helm off of him while Flemeth set to work healing Aedan.

That night was the first of a series of long nights in Ferelden.

I slept on the floor near the fire place. The heat comforted me even though I slept fitfully. I've slept on the ground before having gone camping often enough with Cody. I missed him a little more here because this would have been something he would have loved. He would have had the time of his life. He might have even tried to fight in the battle at Ostagar. Cody was crazy like that. I loved him for it.

The hut did actually have another room as I found out when Morrigan opened a trap door and went down into it to sleep. I wanted to make a cheesy vampire joke, having read far too many Sookie Stackhouse and Anita Blake novels over the years. Refraining took a lot more self control than I thought it would.

I'm a nerd. I thought I made that abundantly clear.

I slept fitfully, waking periodically and drifting back to sleep. Every time I opened my eyes I expected to wake up on the floor of the history class room or in the health center or an emergency room with a worried looking nurse hovering over me. I dreamed of Emma trying to help me up off the floor only to lose my balance and suddenly my eyes popped open in the new reality. A child-like desire to be at home wrapped up in my grandmother's arms, smelling the sweetness of her perfume and skin lotion overwhelmed me.

I woke up before dawn, finding Alistair already awake. He stood at the window, his back to me as he watched the predawn light turn the sky from dark hazy black to powder blue. He must have noticed the change in my breathing because he turned a little to look at me. A faint blush graced his cheeks and ears half a moment later, green-gold eyes averting to the spot just to the right and over my head.

Bewildered by his reaction I looked down at myself and realized that sometime in the night the Henley I wore had ridden up with the t-shirt and tank top to expose some of my stomach. Not a monumentally embarrassing sight, but then he was a Templar and a virgin to boot. I grabbed my sweat shirt off the floor and pulled it on to save his innocent eyes.

"How's your head?" I asked once the hoodie settled down around my hips.

His brow drew together, "What?"

I tapped my forehead where I found his wound the night before, "You sustained a mild head trauma last night. No nausea or persistent pressure in your ears? Confusion, blurry vision…" he stared at me like I had two heads. "Sorry, most of the people in my family are doctors."

Still staring.

With a sad smile I pushed up off the floor, "Trust me if you were from where I'm from you would have understood everything I said."

"Do people from your world also disappear into thin air like you?" He asked suspiciously.

I almost wanted to laugh. I didn't though. Shaking my head, "Nope. I'm uniquely singular in that respect. David Copperfield has to use mirrors." Again with the staring. My pop culture know-how would be completely wasted in this place. Sighing, "No, I shouldn't even be disappearing like that. It's not humanly possible."

That, of all things, seemed to placate him.

"Are you a mage," he asked, "like Morrigan and her mother?"

I shook my head, "Not a magic bone in my body, I swear." Just an everyday post adolescent who happened to come unstuck between two very different realities. That sounded like the premise for a bad yet somehow miraculously popular sitcom. Maybe they could air it after **Two and a Half Men**.

Truthfully the video game didn't do him justice when it came to his sadness over the loss of Duncan and the other Grey Wardens. The Alistair I met yesterday looked ten years younger than the man that stood before me. The crow's feet appeared over night in the corners of his eyes and the deep creases in his forehead brought out an almost irrepressible urge to grab him and hug him. I wanted to lie to him and tell him it would be okay eventually.

It's my nature I suppose, along with going to mush over fuzzy creatures and falling in love with men that rip my heart out and stomp on it. He just seemed so heartbreakingly _lonely_. Gingerly I put a hand on his upper arm and said, "Live like they would have wanted you to, it is the best way to honor their memory." My uncle, the other blackened sheep in my family, told me that after Cody's funeral. I'll never forget it as long as I live.

"Have you," he said softly, sadly, "ever lost anyone?"

"Someone I considered my brother," I touched Cody's totem which hung from the chain around my neck. The wood felt warm under my fingertips.

Outside birds sang and the sun came up fully. Flemeth returned from wherever she'd gone. I wondered if she slept at all or if she even needed sleep. Having played DA2 I knew better than to think she could be killed. After out talk yesterday, I felt as if I might be in some twisted fairy tale on crack. Where Flemeth played the part of the elderly know it all fairy godmother. Minus the fairy bit.

Being told your life is about to change from college student and daughter, to run, fight or die isn't something anyone wants to hear. Not from the mouth a person you previously believed to be a non-sentient video game personality. Not when you are stuck somewhere you thought did not, could not exist.

I went outside with while Alistair changed back into his armor.

If the game timing was anything to go by Aedan would be awake soon. Then the four of us, Morrigan included, would head off to Lothering. Hopefully we would pick up Leliana and Sten, save Bohdan and Sandal from darkspawn and…I sighed. I have played this game so many times with so many different variations. I went around the house to the creek, no doubt a runoff from the stream I'd followed through the wilds yesterday, and stripped off my hoodie again. The Henley and the grey t-shirt went with it.

Unlike other people in college, I'm not one for going without showers for a couple of days. The water stuck a little under my arms from the remainder of my deodorant. In a day or so I'd have to get used to my own body odor and the feeling of being ripe and grimey. Gross. I rinsed my mouth and rubbed my skin with cold water where I could get at it. Bending my head over the water I emptied the last of my water bottle into my hair and used my fingers to comb through the tangles. My kingdom for a bar of soap and some leave in conditioner.

I couldn't have been gone more than twenty minutes at most, but Aedan and Alistair and Flemeth were already deep into the raising an army dialogue. From a purely academic point of view, I found their interactions fascinating. They followed the script almost to a T. I stood off to the side, near the door to the cabin while running my fingers through the last hold outs of knots in my hair.

Morrigan came into the mix and I almost started laughing. She did such a good impression of being surprised by Flemeth unceremoniously kicking her out, I half believed it. If I didn't already know her end game, I would have believed it too. It felt so strange hearing Claudia Black's voice come out of Morrigan's mouth. It really did. I kept thinking of her in FarScape, as Aeyran Suun. Stargate and Vala Mal Doran. Her pulling a dash, dive and die in Pitch Black.

Have you realized I am a nerd yet?

Flemeth addressed me right as I'd begun to braid my hair into a side plait. "What say you traveler?"

Fuck my fucking failure of an attention span. I tried for a serious expression, but I think all I managed to do was pull off being tired. Rolling my shoulders, my fingers tying off the tail end of the braid, "What are my options? I either go with the wardens and Morrigan or I head north to Kirkwall and get shut out at the gates. Kirkwall will be turning away anyone without the coin to get through the gates. I'm better off here."

"You don't know that Kirkwall will turn away refugees," Aedan told me.

During our original conversation, Flemeth told me to keep as much to myself as possible. There were powers at work here even she could not explain. However, as with most post adolescents, I'm not one for following rules or recommendations unless I want to. And I honestly did not want to at the moment. I laughed under my breath, "Yes I do. Just like I know your mabari will find us on the way to Lothering and that bandits will hassle us for money when we arrive." Arms crossed over my chest, "So are we gonna go or what?"

* * *

Hiking through the Kokari Wilds took most of the morning; the trees only fell away from us near noon. My limbs felt heavy with exhaustion by the time Aedan called for a rest stop. I really wanted a gigantic bowl of penne-a-la-vodka with grilled chicken and roasted red peppers. Or fettuccini alfredo with broccoli spears and jumbo lemon-garlic shrimp. Linguini and kale smothered in clam sauce. Mushroom and cheese stuffed ravioli, Italian style meatballs in tomato sauce covered with parmesan…

My stomach growled loudly. The last meal I'd eaten was one of my granola bars. I dropped on the ground unceremoniously, my bottom smarting a bit from impact. Not that I cared. I just needed to get off my feet. I could only imagine how I would have felt if I chose to wear flats or the kitten heels Emma gave me for Christmas for today.

Yesterday.

No, today.

No, yesterday. Ostagar was last night. I came back yesterday.

Except in my world only minutes passed between me being here and me being there. I felt like I was in some whacked out Chronicles of Narnia alternate reality. In a moment of decisiveness, I shucked my jacket, sweatshirt and long sleeved tee. The cold damp of Ferelden smacked my skin, bringing about gooseflesh that spread like wildfire. Next I went for my messenger bag, Emma called it my Mary Poppin's bag, and pulled out my drawing supplies.

Shoving up the left arm of my short sleeved tee, I marked my upper shoulder with two short purple strikes. One for each day spent in Thedas. I needed to keep track of time here. On the other shoulder I used a blue marker. One strike for home, for my world. I rubbed my thumb over the blue one once it was dry, murmuring, "I lost some time once. It's always in the last place you look for it."

Neil Gaiman, he's on the top ten of my favorite authors list.

My hand brushed my Kindle when I went to put the markers back. I thought about turning it on, but realized I would just be wasting the battery. That did not, of course, make the desire to hook myself up to the great big world I called home any less potent. My kingdom for an internet connection. For a charger. For _electricity._ For the basic creature comforts people took for granted in my world every day. And, as I ran my tongue over my teeth in a plainly irritated gesture, for my fucking tooth brush!

Instead I pulled out my iPod, pink-purple electronic beauty of the 21st century, put the dull, grey-white head phones into my ears and turned it on. I didn't care what I listened to as long as I could listen to something. Anything that wasn't from this hellish reality I found myself living in. Anna Kendrick singing Cups, Pitch Perfect soundtrack. I could have laughed, and I did, a low soft sad sound that ended in a sob.

My music collection in a word: Eclectic.

Arms wrapped around my legs I settled my forehead on my knees as the song turned into Radiohead's Creep. I tried to lose myself in the lyrics for a little while. Pretend even for just the handful of minutes I sat there that as soon as I opened my eyes I would be sitting the quad again. I'd be waiting for class while other people from my time, my reality passed by on their way to their classes. Their daily routines already set into motion. Would Emma realize something was up when I didn't come back to the dorm last night? Or when I didn't show up for breakfast?

Then again I could be in a coma. Or worse.

A shudder went down my spine.

Radiohead faded into David Guetta's Titanium while I mulled over the concept of me actually being dead, lying on a slab in a morgue. My mother and father would have to drag themselves away from one neurosurgery or another and travel upstate to identify my body. As I imagined what I looked like lying out pale, and cold on a metal slab under antiseptic white lights with a Y incision cutting through my chest, I realized one extremely important thing.

I am a fucking idiot.

Maybe I'm not naturally one to lie down and take what the world throws my way. Maybe it was the song and the message behind the song. Could have been a combination of the two. Either way, I had two choices. I could deal with it and be a hero in the making or I could chump out and slink off to Gwaren and then Kirkwall with my tail between my legs. Both of them held the possibility of me getting killed in the process, but only one could take me on the adventure of a lifetime.

* * *

When I saw the plain looking fencing from a distance I realized that I probably wouldn't get to disappear back into my world once the fighting started. Aedan's mabari would appear any moment from around the bend ahead, and he would be followed by a small troupe of darkspawn. I could feel the tingle of adrenaline beginning to course through my veins in preparation for the fight. Slowing my steps, I made certain my messenger bag was clipped closed and maneuvered it behind me. The last thing I wanted was to get tangled up and lose my head. Or my life.

Alistair bumped into me from behind. Clearly, he was still staring at the ground and his feet while he contemplated the deaths of Duncan and the rest of the Grey Wardens. His armor was, in a delicate word, painful to be hit with. He only stumbled a little, me on the other hand…I weighed less, was comprised of quite a bit more body fat and wore no armor.

"I'm sorry," Alistair said quickly, "I wasn't…I mean I didn't…" He looked at me apologetically, a crease between his eyebrows from deep, morose thoughts.

I held my elbow and the back of my arm right lamenting the size of the bruise I would be sporting tomorrow, hissing through my teeth. The word _ouch _does not even begin to cover it. Biting back the swear words on my tongue, "No," my voice came out a little high, "my bad, really." It was, technically. If I hadn't slowed down, he would never have hit me. I reached out and poked his splint-mail encased torso with a finger from the opposite hand, "You're really solid under there, huh?"

He probably would have answered. One of his hands came up to his chest where I'd poked him. I say probably because he never got to say anything.

Aedan's mabari came around the bend at break neck speed, ears perked, barking his head off in a Happy joy I found you! kind of way. Unlike in the game, the dog did not stop. He barreled forward into Aedan, who crouched to scratch behind ears, rub a puppy belly and tell the pony sized dog what a good dog he was.

I owned a Pit-Bull once. Back when my mom and dad weren't douche bags obsessed with money, work and making a name for themselves in the medical community. Her name was Sasha, she slept in my room most of the time. Sasha was nowhere near as big as this guy, or as powerful looking. In real life a mabari looked like a cousin of the Pit-Bull, with the build of a Newfoundland, and the head of Saint Bernard minus all the fluffy fur. We're talking a big dog. Big. Who tackled his owner down and bathed every exposed part of Aedan's face in sloppy, happy, doggie kisses.

For a minute there I half believed that we would get by without the darkspawn showing up. Without a fight. Of course, as Murphy's Law states, whatever can go wrong will. The moment I believed we might be lucky enough to skate by on the magical juice Flemeth pawned off on Morrigan, was the exact moment the darkspawn chose to join in and ruin the reunion of dog and master.

Beside me Alistair pulled on the Thane helm, he looked much like an awkward derpy Viking. Morrigan, several feet ahead, was already starting up on some sort of spell. Aedan and mabari disengaged from one another fairly quickly. Aedan pulled his broad sword and the mabari loosed a violent, dangerous growl that fell somewhere between mother bear protecting cub and lioness protecting cub. I on the other hand, with my hands on my long sword – still in its sheath – realized I was completely out of my element for the umpteenth time since appearing here in Thedas. Hopelessly, totally and unquestioningly an overwhelmed hindrance to the battle ready warriors and mage.

I don't know if it was gallantry or simply because Alistair at heart was a gentleman, but he pulled me aside, set me behind him and asked me to please stay out of the fray. Then he, as Aedan and the mabari did, charged into battle.

The fight didn't last long, not with Morrigan there casting her frost spell on anything getting away from the boys and the dog. I half expected her to shift into spider form and start ripping darkspawn to shreds for the sheer fun of it. Her laughter in the middle of battle disturbed me more than the blood or the severed body parts.

"There were nine of them," Aedan declared as he counted the bodies staining the ground with their reddish-black blood. He kicked aside a severed arm with the toe of his boot, "there are only eight here."

He just had to say that, didn't he?

A cold shiver streaked its way down my spine. Fight or flight kicked in and I moved fast. Faster, I think, than I've ever moved before though it felt almost like slow motion to me. Half a second later the clicks sounded. I swung my long sword around as the genlock appeared. My heart pounded in my chest like wild horses running away. It stabbed forward at the same time I swiped the blade down with as much force as I could gather. The sword I held was a lot longer than the genlock's blades, and even though I wasn't too much taller, my arms were fairly longer. The blade lodged sideways in the genlock's skull.

I screamed like a banshee and dropped the hilt, allowing myself the obligatory freak out. The creature's eyes rolled up into its head and it died with a very vocal death rattle, and from the smell it did as mortals usually did and shit itself as its body died. I didn't realize I was backing away from the creature's body until Aedan stopped me with a hand on my shoulder. I looked up at him, blinking and suddenly the terror filled me and I broke down into tears.

"You've never killed anything before," Aedan said, his voice soft and patient as he spoke, "have you?"

I shook my head, swiping at my eyes with the sleeves of my Air Force hoodie.

The corners of his mouth turned up a little, his eyes crinkling, "Good first try."

I wanted to laugh, and I think I did though it came out a miserable sobbing sound. "I'm sorry," I managed to get out, my voice thick and throat sore, "I'm not normally like this. I don't cry at the drop of a hat. I don't, but…" I looked over at the body on the ground. The monster I killed. Telling myself it was a monster, something that would have happily killed me or worse, dragged me away to become a brood mother. I shuddered violently at the thought.

The mabari, who I could not recall the name of padded up to me, his fur spattered here and there with darkspawn blood. He put his nose under my hand and whined at me plaintively. The kind of whine a dog gives when they're trying to figure out how to fix whatever is wrong and how they can fix it. Maybe it's because I'm a dog person, or maybe because I'm just an animal lover at heart, I don't know. I got down on my knees, pressed my forehead to his and gave him a good scratch behind his ears.

"Good puppy," I kissed the mabari's nose, "very good puppy."

"You know," Aedan said as he crouched down beside me, "I've never seen Jax do that for anyone but me on a bad day. And I have never," his gloved hand touched mine as I scratched the dog's neck, "_never_ seen anyone brave enough to give him a kiss."

"You're humoring me," I murmured.

Morrigan approached, looking peeved. Her long pale fingers tapped on her arm in an annoyed gesture, "Are we to coddle you all day Traveler or shall we continue?"

The way she looked at me then, her nose and chin raised just a little, dark eyes flinty hard, I realized we would probably never get along. She had her own agenda, her own plans to carry out. Our paths, though intertwining, diverged at critical points. I think she realized that too when I refused to answer her questions last night.

Was Ostagar only last night?

I shot her a glare, "Morrigan, I know you're not used to interacting with people, but really, not a good time to be bitchy." Jax got a couple of good behind the ear scratches out of me and another kiss on the nose. "Good puppy." I touched Aedan's hand, avoiding the sticky splotches of darkspawn blood that defied logic and caught the sunlight. "Thank you. I mean it."

He smiled at me all blue eyes and warmth. Honestly I blame my reaction on me coming off of an emotional roller coaster, but my heart just gave up. She folded up the broken hearted flag she'd been flying since he-who-shall-not-be-named broke up with us, and lit a torch. A torch with the name Aedan hand stamped into it.

* * *

You don't have to review (I know most people won't just because) but I'm not going to know what you think unless you - shock and horror - let me know!

Also, have a cookie because I was up half the night making them for the guys at work. I call them New Years Day cookies, because they're chocolate and peppermint and taste amazing dipped in tea or hot coco.

1/3/14 - If you'd like to read what I have of the House story PM me and I'll send you the bits. You'll see a huge difference in Elyria's character.


	3. Three

Wow, almost everyone who read the first chapter read the second. You have no idea how awesome that is. Gah! That's never happened on any of my other stories.

For my reviewers: I'm glad you like it, thank you. I wasn't sure I was going to post this story and positive feedback is great.

PM me if there are any issues please, I wrote this at work and edited it at home.

* * *

Chapter 3:

Charred rabbits do not taste like chicken but I held my nose and swallowed what I could despite the gamey texture. We ate dinner off of stripped wooden branches and sat on the ground with the cold seeping in. No tents, no bedrolls. We would have them once we hit Lothering. Before dinner, before we sat on the cold hard ground and ate food that made my stomach not so happy in a nauseating kind of way, Morrigan went around and spread something from a small pouch on the nearby trees. I suppose that was what her mother gave her to throw the scent off of Alistair and Aedan.

We were half a day from Lothering according to Morrigan. We would be there by noon tomorrow provided there were no more darkspawn attacks.

Feeling useless I chipped at my red-pink nail polish in the low glow from the fire light. Bad habit. Better than biting my nails though. I had the feeling I might need them to scratch or dig soon enough. The cold nipped at my legs and hands leaving me feeling as if it might be impossible to sleep even though exhaustion pulled at every muscle.

"Elyria," Aedan called.

"Hmm?" I blinked at him. The fire cast dark, ominous shadows on his face. He almost looked dangerous like that. I fought off a shudder, blaming it on the cold.

"Will you be able to take a watch shift?"

I could practically feel his awareness of my lacking skills. If I couldn't prove myself useful I would be dropped at Lothering. The thought didn't scare me as much as it should have. I knew something he didn't. I could find the Hawke family; they would no doubt be right behind us, maybe by a day. Bethany wasn't in the fight, not like Carver and Hawke. I might even be able to find Aveline before anything happened to Wesley.

"Sure," I told him, hoping my voice didn't sound as worn as I felt. "Three hours or four?" Truthfully I didn't think I would make it through a four hour shift. The very idea of a three hour shift left me wanting to weep. Tomorrow would be a lot of walking, again, this time with very little sleep.

My reply must have been the right answer, his face and gaze softened. "Two hours. You'll go last. I'll wake you."

Mercy me. Thank heaven. The energy it took to give him half a smile seemed to be like the last of my reserves. I put my bag under my head, ignoring the childish desire to pull out little Herbert and cuddle him. Jax must have been psychic as well as brilliant because he abandoned Aedan's side to flop down beside me, warm body between me and the cold night. I almost laughed. Reaching out I rubbed behind his ears. That earned me a quick lick to the nose.

"Good puppy," I murmured to him sleepily. I don't remember closing my eyes but I must have closed them because I found myself dreaming of my dorm back at school. Standing outside it with Emma, I knew I was asleep because the dream was black and white. Emma and I were pairing up our schedules for the next semester, trying to figure out what time would be best for us to catch lunch and dinner together. I wondered about the freshman she was dating, the one who always struck me as a little too immature for someone like Emma.

Our schedules weren't matching up. She had classes when I had free time. I had classes when she had free time. Frustrated I threw my schedule on the ground, letting it blow away in the crisp winter winds. I could always go print out another one if I had to, but I didn't think I would have to. Not anymore.

"You're going to be okay," her dream self said to me.

The wind rustled the branches in the tall, tall pine trees across the courtyard from us. I dragged one hand through my hair, "But we don't have lunch together anymore. Or time for dinner."

Emma's gaze was sympathetic, I think she wanted to hug me but she didn't. "You've got other people to hang out with now."

Shaking my head, "Ems, I don't want to hang out with other people. I want to be at home. I want to hang out with you and Ker and Lee." Kerry with her copper red hair, big brown eyes and all of those freckles who could swindle anyone at cards because everyone underestimated her ability to be sly and cunning. Brandon Lee, who remained convinced his parents wanted him to be a kung fu master so they named him something awesome.

Twigs and branches snapped. Something shuffled on the cement. I looked around the courtyard between the two dorms and saw nothing. Just wind and trees and the bushes planted in the center of the courtyard. The cold weather flowers in the beds swayed in slow motion. Finally I put my finger on what felt wrong. We were alone. In a courtyard between two dorms, we were alone as we stood there. Never, ever in the four years Emma and I had been living on campus had the courtyard ever been deserted as it was. I spun around, trying to see someone, anyone.

There was more shuffling on the cement with no one to cause it. The skin between my shoulder blades itched something awful. I went under my shirt to scratch it and came away with bloodied fingers. In the black and white of the dream my blood shown with stark contrast, so very bright and vibrant in the sunlight.

I breathed in to scream and couldn't. My heart began to pound.

Aedan woke me in the dying of the firelight. He looked a little tired, more concerned than anything. "You were having a nightmare."

I blinked at him in the shadows of the twilight, my voice low and soft. "I'm sorry."

He shook his head, "Don't be. It's your turn on watch."

I nodded, sitting up and finding myself just as cold as I was when sleep took me. Jax, the dog, snuffled in his sleep, his paws moving as he trotted after something in his dreams. I hoped he was dreaming something good. I grabbed the long sword, set my back up against a tree and turned my face to what I assumed was east. The sun would dawn soon enough and we'd be on our way again. I hoped breakfast would not be rabbit or squirrel. Or bird. I'd be happy to chew on something that someone hadn't had to kill and strip first.

"Where did you go?" Aedan asked me as he came to stand beside me. He looked out into the distance rather than at me. Maybe he thought I would need help being on watch.

"When?" I asked, though I'm sure I could guess.

"You disappeared in the middle of a fight. I thought…" he shook his head. "You are not from Thedas, Flemeth told me as much. She did not say where you came from, only that you are here to help us fight the blight."

Laughing bitterly under my breath, "Flemeth doesn't know what she's talking about." That almost felt like blasphemy. "No, I am not from Thedas, but I am not here to fight the blight. I fell through a crack between here and my home and from what I can see there is nothing I can do about it. When I disappeared, I showed up at home, a couple hundred feet from where I'd been before I left. I don't know why I am here, and I am not sure if I can ever get home."

"You did once already, I'm sure you will again."

I glared at the darkness ahead of me rather than at him, "I was sick while I was there. I felt like my whole body was being squeezed in a vice and my brain was going to explode from pressure."

Hesitantly, he put a hand on my shoulder. No armored gloves, just his hand with long fingers and calluses a Teryn's son should never have had. "If I can, if it doesn't interfere with fighting the blight and calling in aide, we can try to find you a way back." The sincerity in his voice brought tears to my eyes.

"Thank you." I tried to smile at him, "Better get some sleep. You'll be tired enough as is."

One of his shoulders rose and fell nonchalantly, "Wouldn't be the first time I've gone hours without sleep."

"I'll be alright," I said, "go sleep a little. We're going to have to face Alistair's cooking again when he wakes up."

Aedan gave a groan of pain, head bowing in horror. "Why, why did you have to remind me of that Elyria?"

I wanted to smile, but I just couldn't do it. Instead shook my head, "Get some sleep Warden."

"Aedan," he corrected, his lips casting a shadow of a smile at me, "just call me Aedan. I'm not much of a warden. Alistair has more right to the title than I do."

My cheeks flamed in the dark, "I don't know if that would be-"

He stepped a little closer to me, towering over me, watching me with those blue, blue eyes of his. "Just call me by my name Elyria."

Ah Christ, damn it. My knuckles went white as they gripped the hilt of my blade. My cheeks flamed with heat in the semi-darkness. "Okay, Aedan."

He flashed me an almost playful smile as he backed away, "Good night for now Elyria."

In my chest my heart did jumping back flips, "Good night."

Oh. My. Fluffy. Lord.

* * *

"Bandits," I told Aedan as we approached Lothering. The bald one, the one with the slow speech who – at least in game – was smart enough to realize the Warden and company were dangerous, was visible between the archways. I looked up at Aedan, I had to. He was at least six foot one or two, I'm five three maybe five four with sneakers. "So, does that mean you're going to pay me the gold you promised or what?"

He flipped a coin at me, which I caught between two hands. "You are eventually going to tell me how you know these things, aren't you Elyria?"

God, the way he said my name. My heart gave a quick flutter in my chest. I felt my cheeks tinge with color and bowed my head a little to hide behind my hair lest my English/Norwegian heritage betray my budding crush. "I don't know," I told him, "in all honestly Warden-"

"Aedan," he corrected again.

The blush spread to my neck. "Right. Sorry. Aedan," I fought not to chew on my lower lip, another bad habit of mine. "I don't know if I should."

"And why should you refrain?" Morrigan asked from behind us, her tone only slightly insulted with an undercurrent of curiosity. "Is that not what you were sent to do?"

I laughed bitterly, "Sent? I wouldn't say I was sent here. I don't even know how I got here. One minute I was sitting waiting to head to class and the next I was standing in the Wilds without cell service." I cast a glance back at her, "Unless some higher entity decided to play on my emotional and mental stability, I wouldn't say I was **sent** here by anyone, would you?"

As Aedan, Morrigan and Alistair walked toward the bandits, I realized this was really it. This is where the story would start. We would beat the tar out of these idiots – or pay the toll – and move on through to Lothering. Hunting down Hawke while we were here, and saving the life of either Carver or Bethany. My conscience told me to watch my hubris, watch how I interacted with the world, with the people. It was just that I hated knowing one of the two would die if I didn't say anything. All I had to do was open my mouth and ask the refugees if they knew the Hawke family.

All I had to do was _try_.

"Wake up gentlemen, more travelers to attend to." In real life the bandit leader looked a lot more scraggly than he had on the computer screen. His five o'clock shadow was more of a scruffy almost beard. His eyebrows could have done with a good grooming and his armor looked bedraggled and patched at best.

"Highway men," Alistair said exactly when I expected him to, "preying on those fleeing the darkspawn I suppose."

"They are fools to get in our way," Morrigan said right on cue, her nose wrinkling in irritation. "I say teach them a lesson."

Beside me Jax gave an angry growl, his hindquarters squaring off in preparation for a fight. Morrigan's hands were already on her staff, the faint bluish glow of her magic formed around her fingers. I went for my sword. I wouldn't fight unless I had to, Aedan's orders. I lacked the armor I needed to defend myself properly. We would be getting said armor once we were in Lothering. I didn't want to tell him the merchant wasn't going to be accommodating or pleasant. He would learn soon enough.

Aedan took some initiative with a preemptive strike. He pressed a dagger he pulled from I don't know where against the bandit leader's corroded artery. "It would be best you and your friends left before we decide you've been causing too much trouble around here."

The swagger went out of the scraggly leader, his eyes bugging out with a sharp blade stuck against his throat. "Alright, we surrender! We-we-we're," he even stuttered in real life! "Just trying to get by, before the darkspawn get us all!"

"Oh please," I snapped, "you're ripping off people in need. I'd insult you but I can't fathom an insult your pea-brain could comprehend."

"Yes," the bandit stuck with the script, "I'm a bad, bad person."

Aedan's eyes narrowed dangerously, "Start running. Do not even think about coming back here."

My girly bits went up in take-me-now flames. Blushing to the roots of my hair, I looked down to keep from anyone noticing. Lest Morrigan decide she wanted to antagonize me as much as she did Alistair. I was already on her bad side for being here and unwilling to share information. My eyes caught a faint smear of red on the ground. Then a few drops nearby. Blood. Dried blood. Of their own volition my eyes followed the trail to the side of the bridge. A few fingers, encased in tarnished plate mail stuck out from under piled refuse. Reaching over I tapped Alistair, nodding toward the wall. He saw it too.

We pulled poor Sir Heinrich out from under the pile. He clutched the paper in death. Aedan took both, reading the note.

"We're going to have to stop at the chantry," Aedan informed us.

Our first side quest. The absurdity of it made me cover my mouth to kill a laugh. This is a game made of main quests and side quests. At least I hadn't been pulled into Skyrim. Or worse, Oblivion. I'd have died already. A wolf would have taken me out, or a skeever. The mental image of being ripped to pieces, alive, by an oversized rodent was not pleasant.

"Is that wise?" Morrigan asked with the very slightest of inflections in her voice.

"You don't have to come in with us," I added as we moved past the zigzagging barricade to the ramp that would lead us down into Lothering. The dialogue, Alistair's dialogue and Morrigan's snark began the minute Aedan's feet touched the ramp. Further proof that I was along for the ride, not a central part of the story like the rest of the companions we would sooner or later pick up.

While they talked – and at least in the case of Morrigan and Alistair snarked – amongst themselves I looked out upon the village, more like town, of Lothering. In this case the game had not done it justice. There were people _everywhere_. The tents set up almost neatly in the semi-circle near the ramp in game, was actually a small tent city four by four rows. Women, men, children, and pets moved among the tents. Some coughed, some begged for food. The gold Aedan gave me, the sovereign felt heavy in my pocket. I could break that into silver and give as many people as possible a way out. They needed to get to Gwaren to catch the boat to Kirkwall. Or they could head up north toward Highever and Amaranthine where the blight would hit last.

Past that there were homes in the distance and then more open land with forest and shrubbery. Finding the Hawke family would be…difficult. Hopefully I could find them. Hopefully I would find them. I just needed to talk to Hawke's mother or Bethany for five minutes and-

"And you Traveler," Morrigan called me back to their conversation. "Mother told me that you would provide insight into the best course of action."

Refraining from turning around, "Funny that, Morrigan. She told me to keep what I know to myself." I tapped my fingers on the stone railing, "but if you're asking me what I think we should do regarding the treaties, the Circle should be first."

"The Dalish are closer," Aedan said. He came near with a map of Ferelden, this one much less colorful than the one I was used to looking at on the computer screen. He held it against the railing folded in half to show me the distance. His fingers traced the outline from Lothering to the Brecillian forest and then the long road up Lake Calenhad to the Circle Tower. "Unless there is a reason you think we should go to the tower first?"

Silently I weighed the consequences. I could just out right give an order and see if it would be followed. I doubted it would go over that well though. Aedan had to look as if he was in charge, he was the central character after all. The Warden.

After a moment or two of silent deliberation I flipped around to see everyone. "Morrigan's healing skills are nowhere near her offensive capabilities. She could freeze a pond solid in midsummer, but stitching up an open wound might be a trial. We need a healer, and the tower would be the best place to acquire one. Unless, of course, you want to spend the little bit of gold we have on healing potions?"

Morrigan's arms crossed over her buoyant bosom, her fingers curling around her arm. "Traveler, at last you make _some_ sense."

I took it as a compliment, bowing my head a little. "Thank you."

Aedan looked down at his map once again, then at Alistair, Morrigan and finally me. "Are you certain?"

Shrugging, "Only time will tell. You're the one in charge here Aedan, I'm just following your lead."

He closed up the map, "We'll resupply here and then we will head north." Blue eyes on me, "To the Circle."

"Fair enough." Alistair told us right on cue, "Let's head into the village whenever you're ready."

I could practically see the save screen in my mind's eye.

The smell of unwashed bodies was not as bad as it should have been thankfully. The open air and the continuous breeze coming from the open land nearby made certain of it. There was no pilfering of crates or barrels though Aedan did delve into the cracked open ones to fish out abandoned armor and a little money.

He held out leather gloves to me. "I hope they fit," he told me, "I have twenty sovereigns to get us resupplied." They looked somewhat worn but not too badly.

I pulled them on feeling awkward and silly when I couldn't adjust them. "I've never had to wear armor before," I confessed and pulled them off again.

Playfully Aedan tugged at my hood. "I can see that Elyria."

Blushing I dropped the gloves into my bag.

Behind us Alistair began to question Morrigan about her mother. She in turn told him she would rather talk about his mother. Line for line they followed the script in an absurd fashion.

"Like bickering children," I muttered.

Aedan chuckled, leaning in to whisper, "It could be worse. They could be sleeping together."

I clutched my chest in mock horror, "Aedan, blasphemy!" Morrigan and Alistair, together by choice? Gag. The very idea was wrong on so many different levels.

We moved with the people up past the templar warning everyone off. In real life, he did not sound like Fenris. In game, yes they're the same voice actor, but this guy did not sound like him at all. His voice was deeper, his accent a lot more British sounding. At some point we must have bypassed the helpful farmer too. So much for getting information from either of those sources. I suppose it was more realistic, not stopping every person in sight to pump them for the local dirt. At least we forwent the griping about too many people and not enough beds.

"We should look for shelter," Alistair said, his voice slightly higher to reach above the din of other people in the vicinity.

"Tavern," Aedan called back, maneuvering us toward the bridge.

There stood the elven family, the ones who lost all they had to the bandits. Unlike in my games though, Aedan did not stop to talk to them. I don't think he even noticed them. Typical for a higher born human, but it irked me. I stopped.

"Spare a few copper my lady?" The elven woman asked.

"All of our things were taken by the bandits when we entered Lothering," the man told me sounding ashamed and brow beaten.

I shook my head, "I'm sorry. I don't have much myself. But the bandits are gone; my friends drove them out of town."

The woman's eyes grew large, which for an elf was slight alarming. Their eyes are very large to begin with, set deep into their faces but not unpleasantly so. "Oh, thank you! Maybe our things will still be there."

I thought about the sovereign in my pocket again. No. I needed it in case I did find Bethany or Leandra Hawke. A sovereign would mean Aveline may not have to sell Wesley's shield in Gwaren. It was money to pay the guards at the gates. Money to help buy their way into Kirkwall instead of being indentured servants for a year.

Alistair stood waiting for me. "That was kind of you," he said as I joined him.

"A little kindness goes a long way," I replied. Aedan was a head of us, talking to the little lost boy by the bridge. Well he stopped for the kid at least.

"Traveler," Morrigan began as we crossed the stone bridge that connected one side of Lothering to the other, "I have a wonder."

Huh. I guess including me in the party meant I was subject to party banter. Interesting. "I bet you have many." The force is strong with this one master.

Insert the sound of Yoda agreeing here.

"Do you not think, perhaps, telling the warden all you know may enable him to make informed decisions?"

Bi-otch. Right, okay then. "Funny Morrigan, I think I could say the same about _you_." I cast what I hoped came across as a significant glance as we headed toward the tavern. A vein in her temple ticked at the same time her jaw twitched. "I'll show the warden mine if you show him yours."

"I think not," Morrigan replied indignant.

"Bless us in splashes precious," I said, "she's going to bite her tongue!"

Alistair barely covered an amused snort.

* * *

It's weird this chapter is apparently shorter, but it's 6 and 1/3 pages long. Huh.

**Remember, you don't have to review but I'm not going to know if you like it or not unless you tell me. **

For Meleba, a couple of Semlor just for you.

Otherwise, I have some fresh oatmeal chocolate chip cookies (so good). Want one?


	4. Four

Yes! Elyria will be paired with Aedan. Two OC's together though technically Aedan is the name of the M!Coulsand if you don't give him another name.

Remember, you don't have to review but I'm not going to know if you like it or not unless you tell me. ;)

And oh look it is snowing. Again. Six to eight car pile ups. Car engines not flipping over on the first try. SNOW. Ice. Ugh.

I miss living in California.

**Please PM me if there are any issues please, I wrote this at work and edited it at home.**

* * *

Chapter 4:

After being attacked by the soldiers in the tavern – with Aedan shifting me safely to the back of the group before the fighting broke out - they finished the quest for Elder Miriam. Morrigan griped while she worked on the potions. Leliana made the humane traps for the woman standing near her home, we freed Sten and took care of the Chantry business we had while in there. Aedan picked up the quests from the Chanter's board and told the merchant to lower his prices or else. Aedan took Sten, Morrigan and Alistair with him while they took care of the bandits everywhere quest.

It took most of the day, but finally our little party had seven people.

Aedan charged Leliana with getting me armor that would fit while I was to keep Jax with us at all times. Just in case someone, anyone, got it into their heads to do something about the companions to the Wardens. The merchant (whom Aedan gave the verbal smack down) was much less irritated with us than he was with our fearless leader. He gave her a decent deal on two sets of basic leather armor that miraculously fit her perfectly and yet required _a lot_ of adjusting on me. One of the templars allowed her to bring me into the chantry and dress me in her former sleeping alcove behind a fold out privacy wall.

She giggled when I blushed. I never stripped down in front of anyone that wasn't Emma, my former boyfriend or Cody. I kept my tank top on over my bra. It was a little cold while she adjusted everything for me, straps here, and leather laces there. The small heating braziers and the mass of people standing barely one hundred feet away did nothing to warm the chantry with its great vaulted ceilings. The leather armor fought the chill fair enough, but not well enough for my tastes. Ferelden was a lot cooler than Upstate New York in November.

"How do you stand this?" I asked her as she helped me take off the adjusted chest piece to pull on first my t-shirt and then the Henley.

"Stand what?" She asked me in return.

I spent a semester in northern New Hampshire in my freshman year. The bitter cold there that caused ice storms was almost exactly the weather in Ferelden. It nipped at your every exposed surface and tried to sneak its way past your clothes to chill you from the inside. I used to own thermal leggings when I lived there. What I wouldn't have given to have them again.

"The cold here, it's invasive."

"It is warmer in Orlais," Leliana told me while we pulled on my armor again, this time not having to adjust it as much to make it fit. "It took a month or two before I was accustomed to the cooler weather in Ferelden."

A month? Or two? I'd been here a few days! I didn't want to be here for two months, I didn't want to be here for one! Desperation hit me again, harder this time than before. The desire to go home and be attached to everyone and everything via internet from the safety of my warmly heated dorm room and a phone overwhelmed me. Tears formed in the corners of my eyes. I would not cry. I would not let myself cry. Jax's nose bumped the palm of my hand. He uttered a low whine, his red tongue flicking out to swipe at my fingers.

I rubbed his head, sniffling, "Good puppy."

"He likes you very much," Leliana said, gently she patted Jax's head.

My attempt at smiling failed miserably, "Dogs tend to like me. I dunno why."

"Dogs, like most animals," Leliana's accent changed the words to make them sound far more exotic and interesting than they actually were, "can usually tell a good person from a bad person. You," she told me with a gentle look, "you are a good person. He can tell."

We gathered up all of my clothes, the hoodie and the jeans I couldn't wear anymore and my sneakers. The hoodie and jeans I would keep for sleeping. The sneakers though, I had to sell. I hated the idea but the boots fit me well enough that they didn't slip or slide on my legs. I'd never had boots that fit me like they did. They felt like a glove lined with thick material to battle the cold and came up to my knees. The skirt of my armor and the leather leggings underneath went most of the way down my thighs so in the end only the tops of my knees to about four inches of thigh actually saw any cold air. Still, I shivered when we left the chantry.

Even though it would earn my strange looks, I decided to pull on my hoodie anyway. I felt warmer and better instantly. Of course, when I looked down I found I also looked wildly out of proportion. My bresticals enhanced by the leather of the chest piece were huge while the rest of me looked pear shaped.

Comfort over function worked for me though. I held my jeans and sneakers under one arm while we walked the short distance back to the merchant.

While we'd been in the chantry the sun had begun to set. All of Lothering bathed in a reddish glow that reminded me much too much of blood when it hit the creamy off white walls of the surrounding buildings. I blinked against the mental image, telling myself that many, many of these people would get out before it was too late. That did not, however, stop that little voice in my head from reminding me a lot of these people would die trying to get away.

Leliana began negotiating with the merchant for my sneakers. She told him what I told her, they're good for walking, running, comfortable and they had rubber soles. He had no more idea what rubber was than she did, but that didn't dampen her negotiations.

Another young woman stood looking at the merchant's wears.

I walked near her, looking over the herbs and potions to see if I could tell what from what. Elfroot turned out to be easily discernible from deathroot, it was a pale golden hue versus deathroot's purple-black. Deep mushrooms were the only mushroom out. They were hard to miss. I think the pale blue rocks with tiny wisps of smoke coming off them were frostrock. Meaning the dark red clear bits that looked like shattered glass were actually fire crystals. The blue on blue curved pieces must have been spirit shards. Bottled royal blue liquid in different sized glass containers, red liquid ranging from pale red, almost pink to dark red, one that was oval and bright orange, several dark green bottles in varying sizes. Lyrium, health potions in different strengths, fire bomb and different venomous poisons. I was almost proud of myself for recognizing them all.

I reached out to touch a bottle of greenish looking ichor at the same time the other woman did. Our hands bumped.

"Sorry!" She and I said at the same time.

Oh my god. Bethany. I could have hugged her. I wanted to hug her. I didn't. Without her regular ensemble and the staff, I hadn't recognized her at all. Her hair was pinned up today in a messy sort of twist. She went back to perusing the wares while I tried to come up with a way to break the ice. Almost everything I came up with in my head sounded creepy-stalker like. Anything that didn't sound creepy or stalker like made me sound like Yoda. The stuff that fell between the two left me feeling like Professor Trelawney.

Ah screw it. There was always the direct approach.

I cleared my throat, squared my shoulders and said, "Bethany Hawke?"

Her head whipped toward me faster than I think I'd ever seen anyone move. Brown eyes narrowed at me, taking in my appearance. "Do I know you?" The suspicion was evident in her every syllable. "Are you one of Carver's girlfriends?"

"Oh God no," bleh, no thank you ma'am. Carver, the one time I played a mage, irked me so badly I thought about not bringing Anders with me just so the little shit could die in the deep roads. Thankfully I did bring Anders and he saved Carver. The little shit grew up when he became a warden and surprise, a good man. Either way, I still called Carver 'the little shit' whenever I referred to him in conversation about game play.

I tried to relax, but failed in my nervousness. My heart felt like it might jackrabbit its way out of my chest. "But…I…" damn it. "I…" I reached into my pocket and pulled out the gold sovereign I won from Aedan that morning. "Use this to get your family out of Lothering. Leave as soon as both of your siblings get home. Go to Gwaren for the ships up to Kirkwall."

Her eyes were large and dark as I put the gold in her hand. She looked down at it dumbfounded for a moment, then back to me. "Who are you?"

"Elyria," Leliana called to me, "the others are returning."

"Be right there," I called back.

"Wait," Bethany said, "I don't understand." Her fist gripped the sovereign tightly, "how do you know about my brothers? What do you know?"

Brothers, okay so this wasn't a Female Hawke play through. "I'm sorry, I can't. Just go, okay? Be safe." I jogged to catch up with Leliana and Jax. She handed me twenty five pieces of silver and a few coppers. "Wow, you're good."

Looking rather proud of herself, "I am, yes?"

I nodded, pocketing the money, "Very yes."

That made her laugh.

We rejoined the group as they were coming back into town. Everyone looked a little bit bloody, save Morrigan of course. Bethany was gone by the time we walked back to the Chanters board. The brother outside, the one who only spoke the chant of light, gave us his unceremonious chanted reply and sent us on our way. I wanted Chanter says what to him.

Aedan tugged gently on the hood of my sweatshirt, "You're all wrapped up."

I batted away his hand, "It is really cold here."

His brow creased in thought, "You must be from somewhere very warm."

"Not really. New York is just warmer than here. Not as damp either." I never thought I would ever hear those words come out of my mouth. Ever. If someone had bet me I would say that last week I would have laughed my butt off at them.

"Ah," he said. "We'll set up camp as soon as we are out of town. I promise the fire and some hot food will make the cold a little more tolerable."

Food. In that moment I realized something. I hadn't eaten anything but breakfast today. I'd taken water from my bottle but other than that, nothing. My stomach rumbled as soon as I realized I hadn't eaten. Good thing I'm not diabetic or I'd be shit out of luck. A handful of sour gummy kids went into my mouth once I fished them out of my bag.

"What are those?" Alistair asked me while we waited for Aedan and Leliana to haggle the merchant's prices down.

I pulled out a couple more and gave them to him, "Suck on them, don't chew, last thing you need is cavities."

He looked at me skeptically. His face pinched up almost immediately after he put them in his mouth. "Sour," he cried and then a moment later, "sweet?"

"Welcome to the wonderful world of gelatin and corn syrup."

"You and your strange words," he shook his head at me.

"You can swallow them now Al, they're pretty much done once all the sweet and sour is gone."

He did his brow furrowing. "I think they're stuck in my teeth."

Groaning, "I told you not to chew dumb ass." I handed him my water bottle, "Swish it around in your mouth a couple of times. Should loosen everything up."

Unlike in my world where one person did not put their mouth on your drinks, Alistair did. His lips wrapped around the mouth of the bottle and he swallowed a couple of times. Oh dear god that should not have been sexy. It really shouldn't have been because his armor still had speckles of blood and he looked a bit sweaty, and tired. But it _was_. Just his Adam's apple bobbing… Holy crap.

Remember that episode where Castiel was human and he drank from that water bottle? Yeah. **That times one **_**hundred**_**.**

I turned my head away. Crushing on Aedan was bad enough, I would _not_ crush on Alistair too. I took the water back hoping the flush on my skin wasn't too much of a giveaway. _Put the hormones away woman, we do not have time for this. _My libido needed to sit down and stay the hell away. Preferably for as long as I had to be in Thedas because no, it just was not helping. The last thing I wanted was to get into any form of relationship – besides friendship – with a fictional video game personality!

Especially not one I designed. Or one that was in line for the Ferelden throne.

Bad mojo, seriously.

There were no villagers lying in wait for us as we exited Lothering, they were all dead. Their bodies were being picked over by the Chasined who paid us no mind. Flies had already begun to circle, no doubt laying eggs for their larva. It wouldn't matter how much they would begin to smell. In a couple of days this place would be overrun with darkspawn and those bodies would either be fodder or food. Lothering would be overrun.

The walk to the other side of the bridge actually took much longer than I thought it would. Twenty minutes. The village of Lothering was far more spread out in the third dimension than it was in the two dimension of a video game. Aedan asked me to walk with him again, though we didn't say much to each other. He kept his eyes ahead, scanning the horizon for anything out of sorts.

As soon as we began to approach the bridge I put my hand on his arm, "There will be two dwarves under attack up here. A hurlock emissary with some thralls."

He looked down at me, "One day you are going to explain to me how you know these things."

"You think so huh?"

Bohdan yelled for help and the group rushed into action.

* * *

We walked until a little after dark and then made camp. How they fit tents and bedrolls into their packs, I will never know. Honestly, there had to be some kind of spell or enchantment on them to allow so much in one bag without making it explode from over filling. I thought about grabbing Aedan pack or Alistair's and seeing just how far down the rabbit hole I could go before I hit Wonderland. Or Underland. Maybe Johnny Depp would be there.

Or I could wake up from the Matrix.

Though, I don't think I swallowed any blue pills…

My own messenger bag had begun to overflow with my jeans piled into it. Alistair carried my tent and bedroll in his bag to help me. After putting up my tent I sat by the fire with my things set out on the ground to see if I could bundle or bunch anything up to make some room. The bag wasn't too heavy yet, but sooner or later I would have to dump some stuff. My water bottle stood out. It was heavy and Leliana had an extra water skin that I could carry that was much lighter. No place to dispose of plastic here though. The bottle was set to the left where the stuff I didn't want would go.

My jeans, those I would be keeping come hell or high water. Rolled up they went in the bottom of the bag. Cody's utility knife went in as well. The Kindle, but only because I spent so much damned money on it. My phone and the iPod were tucked into side pockets, I would cry if I left them. The scarf I could probably sell, but probably not. The last granola bar I would need at some point.

Herbert sat looking at me from his perch, golden plastic eyes dancing with the firelight. I picked him up, turning him over and dusting off the little bit of dirt he managed to acquire on his furry white bottom. Herbert appeared on my pillow when I was sixteen, just after my parents had all of my wisdom teeth extracted. I was half out of my mind with drugs and pain when my uncle took me home. My parents, despite having made the decision to pull all of the offending teeth, did not go with me. My uncle and aunt had. They put me into bed; let me pass out for a while. When I woke up, my parents were home and Herbert lay next to me on the pillow.

He went into my bag.

The sketchbook. Picking it up and flipping through it reminded me drawing was not my forte. The color pencils and markers though… I picked out the purple and blue I used yesterday and made strike marks on my arms again. The ones I made yesterday and the day before were still fairly vibrant. Four days. Three more and it would be a week.

To my right, Sten stood stoically with his arms crossed and face set. To my right Leliana hummed as she went about setting up her tent. Off in the distance, Morrigan stood by her own fire with her tent set up behind her. Alistair worked on dinner, which did not smell very good even though it was supposed to be venison. Aedan and Leliana managed to take down a deer earlier. The pelt sat out near the edge of the clearing to dry.

I got up to check on my own dinner. A slab of the venison rubbed down with salt, and a little pepper, shoved between two pieces of cast iron, one with a long handle that Bohdan sold me for two silver coins and my loose coppers. Yanking it from the fire and opening it left me with a mouth watering smell. Well, my dinner was ready.

Jax appeared at my side, his butt hitting dirt, slobber dripping from his jowls.

"You're lucky I like you," I told him, cutting off the bits of fat I wouldn't end up eating and feeding them to him. He put his head in my lap while I ate, whining piteously for more food, which of course, I gave him.

Alistair picked up my makeshift cooking utensils, "What is this?"

I shrugged, "Double sided griddle?"

He looked down at the half piece of steak I had left on my plate, a little pink in the middle and decently browned on the top and bottom. "It works?"

"Apparently."

"Huh," he sat down as well, nudging Jax's bottom with his knee.

Leliana sat down on the other side of me, legs crossed as she dipped her spoon into the bowl of grayish mush Alistair concocted. She glanced at my plate, back at hers, and frowned at me. "I think," she said as she ripped a piece of bread and gave me some, "that you should take over the cooking duties. It would be better for everyone's digestion."

Alistair made a pained sound, "Hey! I tried!"

Using my fork I stabbed at one of the grey lumps in his food, "I think you failed."

He huffed pulling his plate away, "You just don't know good Ferelden stew when you see it."

Aedan joined us, standing just to Leliana's left, "I do, and this," he tilted his bowl to show us Alistair's concoction, "is not it."

"Fine," Alistair sniffed, "I suppose Elyria can cook from now on then."

Leliana smiled at me, "Wonderful! I would like to try a dish from your world."

"Wait," I said, "I didn't agree to cook for the lot of you."

Aedan laughed, "You'd rather we starve?"

Alistair dug his spoon into his food, dragged it out and stuffed it into his mouth. "It's delicious," he said around the mouthful, "see? Perfectly ed-" he gagged, coughed and turned slightly green, "edible."

The dog whined. Leliana and Aedan laughed. I'm pretty certain Sten made a sound though when I looked at him I saw no sign of a change in him. He still stood stoically looking for the entire world like he would turn into a statue any moment.

I sighed. "Alright, alright. Consensus reached. I'll cook, Alistair can assist. Just, for the love of all you hold dear, please do not ever try to make stew again."

Watch was split, two hour shifts again. Aedan took first watch, Sten took second, Leliana third with Morrigan, Alistair and I were both assigned fourth. Two people for the early hours, lest one fall asleep. I read once in a health book way back in high school that the body was a clock, and if it is used to sleeping a certain time it will do everything it can to get to sleep. Better safe than sorry I guess.

I was in my tent fast asleep before anyone else; I could still hear their voices when I closed my eyes. When I opened them I was sitting in my dorm room with it's twenty by twenty cinderblock uniformity, slightly off white walls we tried to cover with posters and pictures. Emma braided my hair in medium sized plaits, her short, delicate fingers sifting in and out of my pale strands.

"I missed you," I told her. I did. We'd been together for four years of our lives, separated only by a subway ride during the summer.

Emma didn't say anything, just kept weaving and humming a song. Enya, Bodicea I think. One of the braids fell into my field of vision. My hair wasn't long enough for the braids to hit my chest. Reaching out, grabbing for it, I brought it up for inspection. It was my hair, summery blonde mixed with paler whiter strands that came naturally. People tended to think I dyed it but I could assure them, the carpet absolutely matched the drapes.

"Ems," I said holding the hair I knew was my own though I remained uncertain how it got so long in so short a time, "I really missed you."

Still she didn't say anything. Another braid tapped against my back as she tied it off. I reached back and grabbed her hand, turning half way around to see her. Only it wasn't Emma. Leliana sat there, her blue eyes smiling at me with the dying fire behind her.

Waking up in my tent wasn't as much of a shock to the system as waking up on the cold, hard ground had been yesterday. I climbed out of my tent, bumping into Alistair as he came to wake me. No armor on, thankfully or he might have bruised my shoulder this time instead of my elbow. Still he was pretty damn solid under that tunic and whatever else was keeping him warm.

"You," I poked him in the stomach only to find his flesh didn't give too much, "are seriously built, huh?"

The tips of his ears stained red, one of his hands brushed down over where I'd poke him. "I…ah…we…we should better..." His eyes dipped low before they shot to the side awkwardly.

I looked down. I'd taken off my bra for comfortable sleep and now that there was some cold air mixing in with the warm air under my clothes my breasticles decided to make spectacles of themselves. The girls were sitting up and saying good morning. Embarrassed I pulled my sweatshirt away from my chest. "I'm gonna…" I ducked back into my tent. The bra went back on. I pulled my hoodie over everything and ventured back out. Alistair looked much less embarrassed now that he didn't have my twins waving at him.

He avoided meeting my gaze, forcing me to smack his arm.

"Oi, if we're going to go through the whole blight together, we're going to see a lot more and do a lot more embarrassing crap than _that_."

Alistair laughed a little nervously as we patrolled around the perimeter of the camp, "You sound certain of that."

"Wait until you wake up with morning wood and it won't go away. Imagine having to face Leliana, Morrigan or me with your hands attempting to cover-"

"Holy maker," Alistair covered his eyes with one hand, his cheek pinkish in the semi-dark, "I get the idea."

Bumping my shoulder into his, "Hey, could have been worse. You could have seen me naked. I'd never live _that_ down."

We patrolled around in a circle, listening and keeping an eye out. I didn't think there would be much to see and there wasn't. A little light began to creep up into the east. My stomach rumbled something awful.

Alistair smirked at me, "You're cooking."

I glared at him, "Get me some eggs punk."

"What is a p-unk?" He distorted the word in an attempt to understand it.

"Find me eggs and I'll tell you. Go."

He marched off in search and I went back into camp. Bread, hard cheese, some butter and a cast iron frying pan. I could do this on scale for seven. Absolutely. I hoped.

Alistair returned with eggs nicked from a wild chicken's nest. He had the scratches on his hand to prove it. He went to put his armor back on while I cooked. Bread with a little butter, eggs scrambled with cheese melted in.

Aedan woke first, a startled yell coming from his tent.

I'd almost forgotten about the nightmares wardens had. I tried to act like I hadn't noticed when he came out of his tent. He and Alistair had the dreams chat and then Aedan ducked back into his tent, presumably to put his armor back on.

Sten was up next, then Leliana.

"Good morning," she said, "It smells wonderful."

I began dishing out food when Sandal walked over. He looked up at me with his big eyes, "Miss 'lyria."

I blinked at him. Well do me sideways with a rubber duck. I knew he could say more than **enchantment**, but damn. He said _my_ name. Wowza. "Morning Sandal."

He smiled all gums and teeth like a little boy, "Morning."

I handed him a slice of bread with a little melted cheese on it. "Eat up. You're a growing boy." He stuck half of it in his mouth and trekked back to his father like an excited child.

Aedan groaned as he ate, "If you keep cooking like this, I'll marry you."

One eyebrow raised, I plopped down next to him, "And who says I would have you?"

Leliana folded her legs and sat down on the opposite side of him, "Why would she want you? A woman with the ability to cook well is a prize to many men."

I snorted, "Yeah, tell my ex-boyfriend that."

She waved me off, "Completely unworthy of your affections."

"Idiot," Aedan agreed around a mouthful of eggs.

Alistair sat down as well, Jax in tow. "Who is an idiot?"

"Elyria's former beau," Leliana told him, "He was not very bright, obviously if he chose to leave her."

Alistair took a bite of the eggs, "Right. Complete moron."

That morning was the first morning I was actually alright with being in Thedas.

* * *

Thank you to all the reviewers, and to everyone who read.

I'm trying out this new recipe for icing on gingerbread cookies. They're all going to wear red shirts.


	5. Five

A/N: Wow, no really, wow. I can't believe how many people are reading this. That's just...wow. I'm glad so many people like it even if you're not reviewing. Almost everyone who read chapter one is reading chapters two through four. I'm just wearing this big stupid grin on my face right now. You have no idea.

Posting this from work where they have some ancient form of Microsoft Word, so if you see mistakes please PM me, thank you!

* * *

Chapter 5:

It would be almost a week and up the coast of Lake Calenhad on foot. The words bounced around in my head like a graphic scene from a horror movie. Don't get me wrong, I've hiked and I've rock climbed and once a very long time ago in a high school long forgotten I tried out for the track team. A week on foot. A full week in Thedas time was still apparently a seven days. Each day was a full twenty four hours. Mentally calculating how long we would actually be walking left me groaning inwardly.

As we walked we passed people migrating. The smart ones were heading toward Gwaren to catch a boat to Kirkwall. Others, as I found when I stopped people to ask about trading for food and supplies, were heading to Denerim or to a family member's home for safety. So many, many of them believed this wasn't a true blight.

Far too often during the days I caught myself looking up at trees like a tourist seeing Manhattan for the first time. These trees were older and taller than any tree I ever seen outside a forest reserve. Most had roots that burrowed deeply into the ground and split the grassy land around them like thick sun-baked worms.

At night there were the stars in the night sky. Never in my life had I ever seen so many stars. I blinked up at the million upon millions of tiny white pinpricks in the heavens and my mouth fell open in awe.

Would this have been what my world looked like without all the pollution?

The sun had barely begun to set on the third day of travel when Aedan called camp.

"Elyria," he called, motioning to me to join him instead of helping to set up the fire.

Almost afraid I'd done something wrong, I walked over to him, "What's up?"

His brow creased in the most adorable way as he tried to process what I'd said.

"Informal expression from my world meaning; What's going on. What did you need?"

"Ah," he nodded, "we have to discuss something."

A cold shiver shot up my spine. "Alright."

"You confessed you've never killed before the genlock, and I've been able to keep you safely out of battle since." He sighed deeply, his brow creasing, he rubbed his eyes in a tired motion. "I need you to be able to fight or we may have to leave you behind."

Badum-bum, there it was the moment I dreaded from the minute we entered Lothering. "I know," I told him, my head bowed, "I know. Do you think I could still get to Gwaren from here?" Maybe I could sell off my colored pencils and note books for some money. I could try to find Hawke and-

The look he shot me then, as if I'd lost my mind and was spitting gibberish at him. "What? Elyria," he sighed again, this time putting a hand on my shoulder. "No, no, I don't want to leave you behind. I want you with us, but if you can't fight I cannot in good conscience keep you on. You would be in too much danger."

"Oh," I said dumbly, feeling like I should smack myself with the stupid stick. "I'm not a complete loss. I did fence back home, and I was pretty good," I knocked three seniors on their self righteous asses, "but…" I sighed. No excuses. If he was willing to stick his neck out for me I could tell him what need to be worked on. "But these long swords aren't what I've worked with and I'm only just getting used to being able to move in this armor."

His head bobbed, "Then we know what to do. Alistair," he called motioning for the other warden to join us.

"Yes?" Alistair asked.

"Do you think you could help Elyria learn to defend herself?"

Alistair's gaze changed slightly, he stood back from me looking me up and down for several moments. Regarding me much like a teacher instead of the boy-man he really was deep down inside. "I think so," he said finally, "you move well enough and you know how to hold a blade. We can spar and we'll see if you would lean more toward a warrior's abilities or a rogue's. If it is the latter, Leliana might be more help than I would be."

"Or ask Morrigan, you could be magically inclined," Aedan added with a saucy wink.

I think Alistair's expression was similar to mine when he said that; sheer horror with a touch of dread. "No," I said, "I wouldn't ask Morrigan for anything but a tall glass of snark with some cold shoulder as a chaser."

"Ooo," Alistair thought aloud, "I'm going to use that one."

We decided to work on my staggering lack of battle prowess during morning patrol. After dinner wouldn't work out, my internal clock put me to sleep earlier because we were always getting up before the crack of dawn. Not to mention I was getting more exercise in one day than I would usually get in one week at home. We had a set pace to keep on our way up the coast of Lake Calenhad, and we kept it come hell or the spawn of darkness.

As I had every night before, I passed out in my tent before everyone else. My last memory was of Leliana's voice talking about her time as a bard in Orlais with Aedan. I heard her flirty girly giggle and sighed inwardly. So that was the romance he was going for. Better than Morrigan I supposed. My eyes closed, the lids heavy and weary. When they opened again I was again back in my world or the dream state that I referred to as my world.

I was on top of the giant brass mushroom in the Alice in Wonderland display in Central Park, my feet planted, a pair of short swords held loosely in my hands. I wore battle gear, and for once I felt warm in it. Almost too warm. I looked off into the distance toward the tree line watching the sway and thrash of the branches in heavy winds. Something roared cracking the sky like thunder in the distance. Deep down my dream self knew it wasn't the harsh metal on metal sound of a car accident or the brash scrape of a dump truck.

Em stood near me on one side and Cody on the other, his foot planted on the white rabbit's head. Cody drew a bow, wicked looking black fired sylvan etched with something shimmering and Em held a winding staff of brass, and silver snakes bound to solid white oak that glowed a cool electric blue interspersed with bursts of orange. The beast roared again, closer this time but still out beyond the tree line. Wings flapped, large leathery wings driving the air down with the force of the creature's lift.

Fear tightened my chest, knotting my muscles. My breath came in quick pants and a light sheen of sweat slicked my skin. I gripped the swords tightly and told myself that Alistair and Aedan would be there.

The trees of central park lit up with the yellow-orange of dragon fire. Animals came out of the tree line running for their lives. Racoons, squirrels, birds, an opossum or two, all ran away from the oncoming danger. Insects dove pasts us, buzzing in a frenzy to save them selves. Cody, Em and I all stood our ground.

"They'll be here soon," I told my friends, "The Wardens won't leave us to fight this thing alone."

Em looked up at me, her voice higher as the wind began to bellow, "Who?"

"Aedan," I called to her over the sound of the dragon's third roar and the wind shrieking around us, "Alistair. The wardens. They'll be here."

A hand on my shoulder turned me around, I looked into Cody's eyes. He gave me a smile, a tired one and said, "Wake up Ellie."

I sat up much too quickly in my tent, my forehead knocking into Alistair's nose. He cried out in pain and so did I. I rubbed the smarting spot on my skull and he did the same, glaring at me in the semi-darkness.

"What are you doing in here?" I snapped at him. Last night I'd gone to sleep with some of my armor on, so my ladies were not waking up to say hello to him this morning. Still, I felt self-conscious with a man in my tent. One who didn't have an invitation to be in here in the first place by the by.

"You were having a nightmare," his voice sounded almost like he had a stuffy head cold, no doubt because he was holding his nose. What he actually said sounded more like; 'Yob ber habing a nibmare.'

The person telling me to wake up in my dream hadn't been Cody, but Alistair. Still rubbing my head, because I hit him pretty damn hard, "Sorry…I, you okay? Did I break your nose?" I didn't see any blood spurting but that didn't mean it wasn't broken. "My brother always says I'm hard headed." Not a compliment or a joke when the golden boy said it, but I took it as such because it annoyed the hell out of him.

He moved his hand a couple of times massaging the cartilage before letting go. No blood. "I think my nose and I will be fine, though I don't think I need to teach you to use a weapon after all. Just run head first into the enemy and…" he voice died off as he started laughing at me, or rather my expression.

I blinked at him in the dark, my mouth open in an O of shock (and mild annoyance), "Did you just sass me warden?"

He ducked out of my tent still chuckling at his own joke "Come on Elyria, you're not going to learn anything sleeping in."

The morning was just as chilly as the ones before it. I wanted to pull on my jeans but refrained. I couldn't wear them at home while fencing, the hell if I could wear them now. Alistair and I set up about twenty to thirty feet from the camp. He wore lighter armor, not full plate like he had been before. Feeling mildly insulted I realized he downgraded to spar with me.

We spent a good half hour with him attacking and me defending. Slowly of course. My stamina, being a college girl who didn't workout much wasn't up to par. It didn't take long before my elbow started to droop and my shoulder sagged with the weight of my weapon. It may not have been very heavy but it was heavier than I was used to and that made all the difference.

Alistiar grimaced at me as he watched me gulp down water and wipe at my sweaty forehead. "We may need to find you a different weapon." We had though, at the beginning he switched out my long sword for a short sword to see if that made a difference. It didn't much.

Leaning my back against a tree, "I told you, the weapon I'm used to using is much lighter. And I don't use it to hurt other people." Unless you counted their egos, in which case yes, I did hurt a lot of people. In particular several people who made the mistake of underestimating me because I'm petite and blonde.

A profound sense of loss hit me. How many days of classes had I missed? People must have known I was missing by now. Had my parents been called? Were their signs up of me, a class photo or one of Emma's pictures that said "Missing" at the top in stark black letters? Did my professors pause at my name and look around the class room for me? Did they just skip over me? Did Emma-

"Elyria," Alistair called his tone stern. "You cannot lose focus like that, you could be killed."

Knocked unconscious, I corrected mentally, because no one actually died in this game unless it was part of the story. If it worked toward the greater benefit of progressing the twisted tale of Dragon Age Origins, then someone died. Not any of the active party though. Which I hoped counted me; technically I shouldn't have been there. Technically I wasn't-

"Elyria," Alistair's stern tone again, arms crossed over his chest, watching me pointedly.

"Alright, alright, I'm turning off the inner monologue, happy?"

His brow creased briefly, "Inner monologue?"

"Yeah, like this," shifting my voice to sound like the voice over guy for **Xena: Warrior Princess** and **Hercules: The Legendary Journeys**, "Stuck in a world she didn't belong in, Elyria Duke must aide the last two Grey Wardens fight the Blight."

The corners of his mouth ticked upward, "Is that what the voice in your head sounds like?"

"Nah, sounds more like me, only less Brooklyn." I raised my sword again, but my shoulder still sagged and my elbow cried out in protest. "I think you're right, different sword. The one I'm used to isn't this heavy." The weapon he'd given me was heavy iron and easily weighed between ten and twelve pounds. My average fencing weapon weight: Approximately two pounds.

In the distance the rising sun began to turn the sky a reddish purple. Red skies in the morning sailors take warning. The old adage I learned from my cousin, Joseph, who owned a boat house. A few days before Hurricane – wait sorry – _Super storm_ Sandy, he undocked his house and took a trip up the coast to Maine. Where he decided to retire and eat lobster for the rest of his life. Lucky bastard.

The grimace Alistair sent me was not encouraging. "Elyria anything shorter than that is considered a dagger, and I am certain you don't want to get close enough to use one of those."

"Well crap," that sucked. Steadying my right hand with my left helped some. "Okay Obi Wan. Let's break out the training droid."

Head cocked to one side making him look like a little like a lost puppy, "The what?"

Bowing my head, "Never mind." I sighed, motioning with one hand, "Lay on MacDuff."

"Who?"

Groaning, "I am surrounded by philistines."

Alistair walloped me repeatedly until it was time to work on getting everyone fed. My whole body had that liquid fatigued feel, like my legs, knees and other such joints would give out any second and I would flop onto the ground like a jelly fish. Somehow I managed to get around the fire without burning myself too badly, and serve up the last of the venison with salt and pepper. We were going to have to resort to hard tack, cheese and whatever veggies we could negotiate off of people or found in the wild unless someone killed another deer, or – bleh – a couple of rabbits soon.

My kingdom for some potatoes. Po-ta-toes.

I'm too tall to be a hobbit, honest.

When I sat on the ground I winced, because he'd knocked me on my bottom earlier to prove a point. My mind drifted off to thoughts of home again during part of the lesson. The templar took some initiative and disarmed me with enough force to lie me out flat. My back hurt a little too, as did my shoulder and my hips. I felt almost sorry for anyone on the receiving end of him actually trying to hurt them. He hit like a freight train going eighty eight miles per hour. Which was fair comparison considering how solid Alistair was under all that armor.

Alistair frowned at me, a deep crease between his eyebrows, as he settled near me, plate in hand. "Did I injure you?"

Waving him off I shook my head, "Serves me right for letting my mind wander."

Aedan must have overheard us, he also sat down, food in hand, "Perhaps it might be better if I took over, or Leliana. This isn't a life you are used to. A different approach might be a better choice."

The idea appealed to me but… I picked at the food on my plate, honestly not the least bit hungry but knowing I had to eat _something_ or I would pay the price later. "You'll go easy on me," my voice soft, resigned, "So would Leliana. I'd be more of a hindrance than a help in the long run and I'll get myself or, infinitely worse, someone else killed."

Aedan's blue eyes drifted over to Alistair, "And Alistair bruising you up will do what exactly?"

I shrugged, which made me hiss in pain, my back stiffening. I caught Aedan glaring at Alistair who looked adequately contrite. "Oh for the love of…"I poked Aedan in his shoulder, "Stop it, he taught me a good lesson this morning. If I want to stay on my toes I don't let my guard down."

"He could have done that _without_ harming you."

"No, really, it's better this way. I'll have a reminder for a few days to pay attention or live with the consequences." The small slices of cheese I took for myself tasted bland, much like the bread but I forced them down. The venison scraps too.

Leliana climbed out of her tent looking fresh as morning dew. Not a single red hair out of place. Both men looked up at her as she stretched her arms toward the sky and said good morning. Their eyes lingered on her. She was pretty, and she was sweet and nice and capable. Oh and she could sing like a, well to use her future name, nightingale. Most of all Leliana belonged here, in this world.

I didn't. A utterly unavoidable and obvious fact staring me in the face.

Eyes cast downward to my plate, swallowing back the bitter envy and jealousy clawing at my insides. It shouldn't have bothered me, Aedan looking at her. It did though. Now I really didn't want to eat anything at all but Jax was somewhere off doing whatever dogs like to do when they're on their own. I couldn't just waste the food when people were literally starving to death. As I contemplated what to do with my unwanted meal Alistair got up to get more, leaving it just Aedan and me for a moment.

"Elyria," Aedan's voice came out a little lower than normal, deeper. He almost had that boyfriend tone, which made my heart jump in little staccato back flips.

"What?" I asked refusing to let myself look at him.

Ungloved fingers brushed still damp strands of my hair back from my face, "What's wrong?"

Shaking my head, lying through my teeth, I forced the best smile I could and said, "Nothing, absolutely nothing."

He took my plate from me, setting it on the ground with his. My heart beat went double time when his hand brushed mine. "Elyria." He touched my shoulder and I met his gaze. He didn't say anything. Blue eyes studied me for a breath or two. "Something is wrong. What is it?"

Don't do it. Don't. I told myself not to. I had to cut this crush down to size and end it as soon as humanly possible but my head and my heart were just **not** in agreement. They each wanted something out of me. My head wanted me to protect myself in this place, to be careful because this could end in disaster and heart break. My heart said to go for it with full steam ahead. My head cautioned my heart not to sound too much like the captain from the Titanic. My heart flipped my head the bird with both hands.

Aedan had this charming look on his face, curiosity mixed with hopefulness and trust. His hand on my shoulder slid down my arm, not letting go but not exactly holding on. "Tell me, please?"

Christ, my chest squeezed painfully. Worse than that time I tried on a corset for my sister's wedding. "Nothing," I lied again, "just tired. I'll be okay."

Aedan frowned, not believing me obviously but not willing to push for an answer. "Alright," he said after a handful of seconds. He took my plate with his to Jax who reappeared and had begun to trot toward us for food scraps.

I rubbed my face in my hands and thought about screaming. Back home, I had what Cody and I deemed a scream pillow. I would bury my face into a dense pillow, wrap it around my head to muffle the sound and I would holler until my throat gave out. Everywhere I lived I had one, my parent's house, and school, at Cody's before he died. Instead I put my pent up energy into taking down my tent, rolling up the sleeping roll and helping clean up camp. There was time still before we had to leave, so I took myself off a little way away from everyone and clawed at the ground until I made a decent sized hole.

Then I pressed my face against its edges and bellowed my lungs out. Walking back to camp I felt better, though my vocal chords weren't much happier than the rest of my body happened to be at the moment.

Marylin Manson, Limp Bizket, Eminem, Guns N' Roses, The Kills, Steppenwolf, Motley Crue. My angry play list helped a little to vent out everything as we walked. I kept picturing Leliana and Aedan talking earlier that day and the way he bumped his shoulder into hers. Jealousy, that ugly green bitch, flared up inside my chest like molten lava.

To say I was in a bad mood would have been a complete and utter understatement. Logic told me to shut down my iPod to save the battery. I didn't of course, mostly out of anger and jealousy and irritation with men in general.

There were hours and hours until Aedan called camp and even then I could still be subjected to watching the two of them interact. I kept my eyes on the ground to avoid looking at either of them. I could still hear her voice over the sound of my iPod which just got me even more annoyed so I turned my music up in response. I started singing the lyrics under my breath to drown out anything loud enough to get through. As the goddamn cherry on the goddamn cake of the day, every single one of my muscles _hurt_.

Being sore tomorrow and knowing I had to work with Alistair again just made me want to punch someone. Hard. In the nose. No. What I really wanted to punch a hole in the space time continuum and **go home**. Back where Aedan, Leliana, Alistair, Morrigan and Sten were just pixels on the screen. Where I could shut off my computer and just go back to being a post teenage girl with a NYC attitude and –

The world wobbled. For a second I thought it might be my legs, or maybe just my knees. Even low blood pressure but it wasn't. The world actually **moved** under my feet. I stopped in my tracks as the ground literally shook underneath me. One of the ear buds fell out. I heard a tremendous groaning rumble. The ground cracked open underneath me much too quickly and I slid into the semi-darkness.

Darkspawn didn't greet me with their bloody, feral smiles thank you sweet fluffy spaghetti monster. Actually nothing greeted me but dense walls of earth and the light at the top of the crack in the ground. It was deep enough that I would probably have trouble climbing out, but not deep enough to scare me. The walls and floor of the crack rippled a little with aftershocks. I heard voices calling to me, half drowned out from the single ear bud that managed to stay in place. The shaking gave way to nothingness again. Huh, earthquakes not followed by darkspawn spewing from the ground. Interesting. I pulled the ear bud out of my ear and shut off my iPod, calling back, "I'm fine." Taking mental stock of myself I found I really was okay aside from the feeling of having been hit by a MACK truck.

Faces appeared above me, Aedan asked Morrigan if she knew a levitation spell. The mage answered with a negative of course. Jax whined. Alistair and Leliana were working on getting a rope down to me. Sten, always helpful, said perhaps I should stay down there.

Rolling my eyes at all of them I trotted over to the narrowest part of the crack in the ground and shoved my back against one side and pressed my feet and hands against the other. My mom really hates the classes I take at school, mostly because they're all over the place and not conducive to obtaining a husband. If my course load were up to her she'd have me in every class advantageous to obtaining an Mrs degree by graduation. I on the other hand actually liked taking the rock climbing seminar last spring. I signed up for the second part for next spring.

A class I probably would never get to take if I stayed in Thedas.

Using my feet and back as leverage I pushed myself up the wall slowly, carefully avoiding digging my fingers into the dirt too deeply. The last thing I needed today was to fall down and damage myself even further. It was only about eight feet up. I'd easily climbed higher than that, though in class I had a clip and rope and someone spotting me from the ground. Climbing up like the way I did took a while. Dirt fell down inside my armor. My boots left foot sized dents in the wall When I neared the top Aedan leaned down, grasping my hands with his and helping me up the rest of the way.

Dusting myself off I glanced at Sten, my eyebrows raised and said, "Maybe you should try that, huh big guy? What do you say, I'll wait up here, arms crossed and you can climb **yourself** out of a hole taller than you."

He looked to Aedan instead and said stoically, "We should move on."

"I'll take that as an, 'you're right Elyria, I'm sorry' or whatever the Qunari equivalent would be."

He said nothing though some kind of acknowledgement flitted across his face.

Leliana wrapped me up in a big hug, "I thought you were done for, I am so happy you are alright."

Damn it. As angry as I had been about her and Aedan flirting, I just couldn't actually be mad at her when she was all sweet and kind and stuff. Damn it. Awkwardly I hugged her back, "It's just a couple more bruises to add to my tally for the day, nothing to get excited about. Holy cow."

She pulled away, obviously confused, "Holy cow? Are cows holy where you are from?"

"Um yeah, in some religions." I stepped back adjusting my stuff, checking everything in my bag and finding nothing out of place. I found everyone staring at me. "What? Am I bleeding or something? What?"

Alistair did the honors, he held out a strand of my hair to me. My blonde hair was red and brown at the back of my skull. I rubbed the back of my head and found I'd scraped myself up pretty good in the fall. Added to the climb back up I'd probably aggravated the wound while managing to matt my hair with dirt. The blood mixed with the dirt in a cakey muddy substance that smelled of rust and muck and lord knows whatever else.

"Can today get any better?" I groaned, touching the back of my head gingerly, "Seriously, all we need now is for a big ass dragon to swoop down from the heavens and attack. That would chalk up today's crap level to a ten."

"Swooping dragons would be bad," Alistair added in all seriousness.

I couldn't help it. I snorted throwing a half hearted punch at his shoulder. "You are so lame."

* * *

I did get a message on my Tumblr asking me why I was taking so long between chapters. The simple answer is: Each chapter is approximately 6 to 8 pages. Those pages don't write and edit themselves.

Valentines day is coming up. I am making a massive number of cupcakes for family and work. Taking requests or you can have one of my red velvet with pink whipped cream icing or chocolate-chocolate muffins with chocolate chip-peppermint cream cheese icing.

You know you want one.


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